by Chileng Pa
About this time, I began hearing that bombs were dropping near Cambodia’s eastern and southern borders. Fallout from the Vietnam War was now increasingly impacting Cambodia. The rumors of war attracted little attention in my hamlet of Phnom Penh, as we were several hours from the battles being fought between the North and South Vietnamese. What we didn’t discover for some months was that Prince Sihanouk was supporting the North Vietnamese and their allies, the Communist Vietcong of South Vietnam, by allowing them to use Cambodian territory for bases from which they could attack the South Vietnamese government.
The South Vietnamese retaliated in brutal fashion, but the Cambodians living near the border with Vietnam didn’t understand why. South Vietnamese soldiers brutally raped young Khmer girls, burned down houses and entire villages, and fired their weapons into crowds.
While the South Vietnamese had little choice but to chase Vietcong forces into Cambodia, their methods resulted in the slaughter of thousands of innocent Cambodians. Entire families were crushed beneath tanks and armored cars because they didn’t clear the roads fast enough. The South Vietnamese justified their actions by claiming that Cambodians were Vietcong sympathizers, trying to hamper the South Vietnamese troops and enable the soldiers of the North to escape. The South Vietnamese launched artillery at Cambodian villages to destroy structures that could conceal Vietcong troops and the cattle that fed them. American planes dropped thousands of bombs, destroying homes and villages indiscriminately. This is what happened to the village of Chanthrear in Svay Reing Province, near the Vietnamese border. All the surviving villagers fled, seeking shelter elsewhere in the province.
As Cambodians learned the facts of war, they became increasingly upset with Prince Sihanouk. This included government officials and high ranking military officers, many of whom rallied around an army lieutenant general named Lon Nol. In January 1970, Prince Sihanouk went to France, ostensibly to undergo his annual physical checkup. In Sihanouk’s absence, Lon Nol and his fellow conspirators overthrew the government and imposed their rule on the people of Cambodia. At the time, I was enrolled at Indra Devi Secondary School.
One morning during first period, the professors held an assembly, asking the students to participate in a protest march on the North Vietnamese embassy. Nearly every student agreed to go, and we left the school on bicycles and motorcycles. It was a beautiful, bright morning, the restaurants were packed with customers, and the streets were filled with traffic. Several hundred protesters from various schools jammed the streets, stopping traffic. Many held up signs displaying anti–North Vietnam slogans, demanding that the North Vietnamese embassy delegation leave Cambodia.
Some protesters began throwing stones at the embassy, shattering windows and defacing the large compound. Others smashed through the embassy doors like attacking ants, invading the offices and hurling chairs, file cabinets, and desks through the windows. The protesters lowered the North Vietnamese flag flying over the embassy and dragged the red flag with its large yellow star into the street. They ransacked offices, scattered documents, and then gathered up debris thrown from the building and burned it along with photographs of Ho Chi Minh, the North Vietnamese leader.
The police arrived after several minutes and began directing traffic away from the protesters. Wind fanned the piles burning in the embassy compound and darkened the sky with thick smoke, while police evacuated neighboring residential areas for fear the blaze would spread. The protesters spent the next few hours destroying the embassy entirely. No arrests were made, in fact, none of the observing police or students, including myself, did anything. We were frightened, and didn’t want to draw trouble to ourselves from either the more belligerent protestors or our supervisors. They’d gained their positions from government bureaucrats, and the Lon Nol administration thought it had reasons to persecute the Vietnamese.
Numerous protest rallies were held throughout Cambodia. During a protest march in Svay Reing and Takeo in March, Lon Nol’s newly-formed government made a formal announcement to Hanoi and the North Vietnamese that they must immediately withdraw all their troops from Cambodian soil. The new government of Lon Nol was supported by the military, for he had been minister of defense and his officers had led the coup against Prince Sihanouk. He was also supported by many of the prince’s relatives, as well as college students, professors, and the intellectual elite of Phnom Penh and the surrounding provinces.
Now, Lon Nol promised to restore peace and raise the standard of living for everyone. He renewed Cambodia’s relationship with the United States, who quickly agreed to provide him with the military equipment and economic aid he needed. The United States also agreed to provide combat training to Cambodian troops. Within weeks, American planes and ships began arriving in Cambodia, carrying weapons, ammunition, tanks, and planes. In a few months, South Vietnamese and American military intrusions into the Cambodian provinces bordering Vietnam increased dramatically.
3
Becoming an Adult in a Country at War
It was June, 1970, and time for me to take my final examinations for my high school diploma. For weeks, my classmates and I had been reviewing our lessons in preparation for the three days of tests. I stayed up late studying the night before the first day, and still had difficulty falling asleep when I finally went to bed.
I was awake early the next morning, very anxious. I tried to relax as I went about my daily morning tasks. As always, after breakfast, I went to my grandmother’s room to greet her and tell her I was off to school. On this day, she was busy praying to the Buddha to give me good luck. It was her custom to bless me before going to school, and she did so even more intently this morning.
I left home at six o’clock, a little earlier than usual, because I had to check the bulletin board for directions to the room where my exams would take place. I arrived at Indra Devi Secondary School with plenty of time to spare, and found my name listed for Building C, Room 36 on the second floor. I sprinted up the stairs and found the room nearly filled with students. I found a seat in the fifth row near the windows, and quickly sat down, taking a few deep breaths to relax. I counted sixty-five candidates, including myself, seated for the exams. All together, there were approximately a thousand students from throughout the country gathered in Phnom Penh to take this examination. A professor sat at a table in the front of the room, and two others sat in chairs at the back of the room keeping a watchful eye on us.
After the examination papers were passed out, I was relieved to see that the subject to be covered on the first day was Khmer language. I was confident of my knowledge in this area, and I did well. The next day’s subjects were French literature and mathematics, which were more difficult. Although I was a good student, was used to cramming before examinations, and had spent many hours reviewing the material for the examinations, these subjects always gave me a hard time, especially algebra and geometry.
To make matters worse, my French professor, Madame Aimee Brel, was one of the observers. Rather than keeping her seat at the back of the room, she walked up and down the aisles between us, saying in French, “Don’t peek at your neighbors’ work. Don’t talk! If I catch you cheating, I will confiscate your exam and throw you out of the classroom!” Fiercely, she repeated again and again, “Do you understand?”
By the beginning of the third day, I was exhausted. All I could think about was what a waste of time it would be to have studied so hard all these years, only to fail these examinations. I was a nervous wreck. I had to read the questions over and over to form a clear idea of the correct answer. I fretted that I wouldn’t have enough time to finish and my worrying made my thinking even slower. By the time the exams were over, I was convinced I had failed.
The only thing that made me feel a bit better during the weeks of waiting for the results was that all my classmates were equally afraid they had failed. When results day arrived, I raced to my school and stood anxiously before the same bulletin board. My heart stopped beating until I found my name listed a
mong those who had passed the exams. I was so happy that I nearly flew home to tell my family. My father was so excited he was speechless. When he did manage to say something, he congratulated me, and then began counseling me about possible future career choices. These lectures continued for weeks.
My grandmother also was proud of me. Her prayers to the Buddha had been answered. She presented me with a brand new 90cc Honda motorcycle. My father enlisted the aid of my grandmother in career counseling, and we had lengthy daily discussions about my future. My father was adamant that I become a businessman. He told me that, since I was the eldest child and smart in math, I should go to business school and become a merchant. He told me that Chinese-Cambodians admired merchants, and we could become rich. He often added that although he knew I could become a wealthy businessman he was only making a suggestion, and not trying to control my future. I had different ideas. I wanted to work for Cambodia, helping people overcome the many problems they faced in our society. I hated government and police corruption, and didn’t understand why the rich had so much and the poor so little.
I was exceedingly fortunate to receive an education, but the majority of our people were uneducated. They had no means for coping with the changes taking place in Cambodia. Most Cambodians were frightened of the future and unsure of how they were going to deal with it. I told my father that I greatly respected his advice, but that business wasn’t for me. I said there was a shortage of people concerned about our country’s social problems, and I wanted to learn more about these social issues. I could earn a degree in four years, and be fairly certain of finding a position with the government. I could then surely earn a salary sufficient to repay Papa for the years of support he had given me, and to allow him to retire from the factory.
During the many discussions we had, Papa was unsuccessful in getting my grandmother to take his side in the argument, and her neutrality was effective in calming his concerns. Thus, I continued at Indra Devi, studying for a degree in philosophy, equivalent to completing two years of post–high school education.
Meanwhile, war in Southeast Asia had reached far into Cambodia. By 1972, horrible stories of the war had become a daily reality for Cambodians. Cambodia was now involved in a three-pronged war against North Vietnam, the Vietcong of South Vietnam, and the rapidly increasing Cambodian communist group called the Khmer Rouge or Red Cambodians, that was supported by China.
Meanwhile, America continued providing aid to the Lon Nol government. In 1970, Cambodia had approximately 35,000 troops. Two years later, this number had grown to 200,000, at least on paper, and the war grew worse day by day. The Cambodian government instituted the draft to feed the insatiable army. Soon, hundreds of thousands of young Cambodians, many still students, were quickly trained and then supplied with stylish new uniforms and weapons provided by the Americans. Most of these unsuspecting and poorly trained youngsters would soon be slaughtered by seasoned Khmer Rouge soldiers.
The Khmer Rouge troops were also young, primarily illiterate peasants recruited by the Cambodian communist party, or Angkar, as they referred to their organization. In contrast to the government troops, however, they were expertly trained and thoroughly indoctrinated by a strict disciplinary code. Based on the theories of Mao Tse Tung, their code consisted of the following rules:
You shall love, honor, and be loyal to Angkar.
You shall give the people a hand, with all your heart.
You shall never act in an improper manner, or show disrespect to any woman.
You shall respect the people, as you respect Angkar.
You shall quickly apologize to the people for any mistakes you make.
You will not steal nor even touch anything belonging to the people.
For use of pepper or a grain of rice, you must ask the owner for it.
You shall observe the principles of the Angkar revolution, when sleeping, speaking, walking, standing, sitting, and during your leisure time.
You shall willingly work closely with the peasants, and you shall teach them to hate and oppose Lon Nol, his regime, and the American imperialists.
You shall struggle against the enemies of Angkar without rest.
You shall overcome every obstacle with determination and courage and be ready to make any sacrifice for your revolution and Angkar.
You shall never commit adultery, or have an affair with a woman.
You shall not be allowed to drink alcohol or gamble at any time.
Strictly adhering to their code, Khmer Rouge soldiers had been living and working in every province, district, village, and in Phnom Penh for years, concealing their identity as communists. They preached their ideology at every opportunity, trying to convince professors, teachers, Buddhist monks, students, and peasants to join the struggle against the Lon Nol government and its American allies. In addition, the Khmer Rouge waged their campaign of terror against urban populations by setting off bombs and tossing grenades into crowded streets, markets, theaters, and schools.
To combat the terrorists’ acts, the government and educational administrators instituted new security regulations at Phnom Penh’s schools, trying to protect the lives of students and teachers. Each school was required to choose a group of students called commandos to watch the school twenty-four hours a day, and to provide some assistance to the population. I was apprehensive about the on-going war in Southeast Asia and the increasing involvement of Cambodia in it, but I didn’t want to become a soldier in the mobilized forces. So, I volunteered to be a school commando.
From the villages and countryside, people were fleeing their homes in terror, seeking refuge in the provincial cities and in Phnom Penh, many because their homes and businesses were reduced to ashes. Others came because the factories or farmlands where they worked were destroyed. Each time Lon Nol’s forces fought the Khmer Rouge soldiers or American B-52s rained bombs down along the Cambodian border, innocent villagers were killed and wounded.
The Khmer Rouge soldiers had an enormous advantage over Lon Nol’s pathetic troops. They were more disciplined and completely committed to their cause. Since they had been working among the civilian population for some years, the villagers didn’t consider them to be enemies. The Khmer Rouge won the respect of Cambodians by respecting them and their possessions, especially their women. Lon Nol’s soldiers were bullies in comparison, taking what they wanted from the villagers, destroying food supplies so they couldn’t be utilized by the enemy, some raping women. In fighting the Khmer Rouge, they were killing their own people.
At the same time, the Khmer Rouge were systematically cutting supply roads to government troops and urban populations, severely restricting the movements of Lon Nol’s forces and endangering the lives of civilians. Worried about losing the war, Lon Nol asked America for increased assistance. In return, he promised to continue supporting their struggle against North Vietnam. The United States increased their support of Lon Nol in the form of bombs that included B-52 saturation bombing, napalm, and dart cluster-bombs that killed tens of thousands of Cambodians.
Along with the thousands of Khmer Rouge soldiers killed by those bombs, thousands of civilians became casualties. Those who didn’t die immediately from flying bomb fragments suffered from concussions, bleeding from their ears, eyes, noses, and mouths. Many were shell-shocked, having no idea what had happened to them. All they could do was get in lines to travel to a refugee camp. Many died before reaching one.
My job as a commando was to lead a team to collect donations of money, food, clothing, and supplies for the thousands of refugees fleeing from the bombing in the rural areas into Phnom Penh. These people were like a river flooding the outskirts of the city. They put up tents, shelters, and huts covered with sugar palm leaves along the national highways and around the fences surrounding Buddhist temples. When my team delivered the donations we had collected, I spoke with many of these people. Some had lived in poverty for years because of the war. Others had no idea of the whereabouts of their relatives. Many peopl
e were alone, searching for their spouse, parents, children.
I recall a day when my team delivered supplies to a refugee camp located just outside the fence of a Buddhist temple called Wat Champou Voan about twenty-five kilometers from the center of Phnom Penh. I walked through the camp, listening to the refugees. They complained about the corruption of Lon Nol’s government, and openly stated their dislike for him. They longed for the days of peace, freedom, and economic stability that had existed in the Kingdom of Cambodia, the days when merchants had no worries about rising or falling prices. Since Lon Nol took over the country, they said war controlled the life of every Cambodian.
The people at this particular shelter were also witnesses to the devastation caused by the American bombing. Their buildings and farms were now turned to ash-filled craters. Their schools, infirmaries, and businesses were gone. Their farming villages were battlefields. Their rice paddies were destroyed, they couldn’t make a living, and they had no food. Many of them were suffering such mental depression from the bombs exploding every day that they could no longer carry on with their daily activities.
As the days and weeks passed, I watched many of these people die from lack of medical attention. They’d lost their loved ones. Many were wounded, more were invalids. In these refugee camps, there was no work and not nearly enough food. Those with money could eat until the soaring price of food made that impossible. Those without money waited for government food rations, which were increasingly scarce.