— Chapter Eight —
The year was 1996 and Colonel Lee Tangh stood in deep thought, surveying a small village that had recently been abandoned. His small landing squad searched small huts for signs of life. The embers of fires still smouldered, indicating the inhabitants had recently fled in the dense, tropical-forest.
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Lee had fought, lived and worked in Cambodia since 1978. He’d had many fierce battles with the Khmer Rouge, on the way to victory.
After Cambodians liberation in 1979, Lee decided he would serve more of a purpose staying in Cambodia to help stabilise the war-ravaged country. Now at peace, he regarded his job as a peacekeeper not victor. His main task after the short war was to act as a liaison between Vietnam and newly established Cambodian army. His first appointed task had been to find, and record M.I.A Vietnamese soldiers, or identify the dead, so they could be catalogued and next of kin informed. This seemed an impossible task as most of the fighting had taken place in the inhospitable, jungle terrain and many Vietnamese soldiers had been unaccounted for. He nevertheless carried on with this essential work, despite being a high-ranking officer.
After many years, his role changed to one of administration, integrating and rebuilding Cambodia back into the civilised world, and his searches for MIA had ceased in the early eighties, with still many unrecovered souls.
Lee requested to remain in Cambodia and was given an honouree Cambodian army rank of Colonel, commanding the new Royal Cambodian Armed forces in Zone 3. Lee was scheduled to be promoted to Brigadier General; his new duties would be to assist with the main government transition. He was happy with his life, happily married, his wife had a good job and with two army incomes and plots of land given to him by two, grateful governments, his life was good, although but boring.
In 1996 a report appeared on his desk about a four man survey team who had been plotting and mapping along a small branch of the Mekong River, they’d reported spotting a woman stood on the embankment and, as nothing was supposed to be there, and as they pulled their boat to the bank to investigate, the women ran off.
They found a faint path and walked through into thick jungle. Two of the men immediately became impaled on punji stake traps. They had to be cut free, and in agony and, through the loud screams of pain and copious amounts of blood spurting out, the two injured men were dragged back to their small wooden motor boat. They eventually made it back to Phnom Penh and received medical attention, but both died a few hours later.
The report intrigued Lee and he decided that he wanted to investigate the case and, with his prior knowledge, thought that he would be the best person to investigate, plus he would be able to spend some time away from his desk and back into the field. He knew once his promotion to Brigadier came through he would be permanently office bound so this would be the last field trip he would have.
‘Could there still be surviving stragglers after 17 years?’ He wondered
Lee visited the two survivors from the survey expedition and took down the details and location. He had surveillance helicopters fly around the area, but nothing could be seen under as thick jungle canopy.
Lee decided to go in with a small ground force of soldiers. He’d hand-picked five soldiers, experts in jungle and Vietnamese booby trap warfare. He knew these five be the best as it had been him who had trained them.
Lee didn’t know what to expect when the small wooden craft docked by the small bank and they made their way into the rain-forest.
They slowly and methodically found and disarmed about 20 traps along their way to the deserted village.
The troop spread out looking for the inhabitants, and disarmed a few more traps.
After two hours, the five gathered in the centre of the small village and reported to Lee they hadn’t seen or found anyone, but the smouldering clay pots suggested people had recently been there, and they could not be far away.
“They seemed to have vanished into thin air sir” reported one soldier. They suddenly heard the cocking of rifles and shouting, as a group of men and women appeared out of nowhere and surrounded them, some jumped down from the cradles of the trees, some pushed out from behind thin layers of tree bark, camouflaged against a tree trunk.
Within seconds, the six highly trained soldiers were surrounded.
The soldier carried sidearm’s and as Lee, who now stared down the barrel of an old, M1 carbine, removed his gun belt and let his pistol slip to the floor, the other five followed suit.
The soldiers were butted, shoved and herded into a small group. They couldn’t understand the language as the villagers shouted at them in a screechy, hybrid tongue.
The six soldiers observed how thin and gaunt most of the attackers appeared, so were surprised and impressed by such a stealthy, vicious attack.
A small, frail looking man came to the front and spoke to Lee after he’d recognised his uniform and rank.
Lee didn’t understand at first, so the old man stood in deep thought for a moment, and then spoke again, in Vietnamese, which he appeared to be struggling with.
“Why are you dressed in a Cambodian uniform, yet you show the Vietnamese red-star insignia on your epaulettes. You are Vietnamese, yet your soldiers appear Cambodian, why?”
Although Lee hadn’t dealt with this type of scenario for many years, knew how to diffuse, reassure and take control of the situation, although usually it was an individual he’d had to convince, not a full village. Lee smiled and calmly asked.
“What’s your name soldier?”
“Hạ sĩ, corporal, Nguyen Tho” said the old man, intrigued by this officer
Lee came forward with an open armed gesture to symbolise trust and openness.
“Well Nguyen, and all you good people, the war has been over now for over 17 years. Cambodia and Vietnam are now peaceful countries and have long since forgotten the war.”
A gasp went around the villagers. Lee knew what was coming next. . . . Mistrust.
The villagers chattered amongst themselves for about ten minutes, and then Nguyen said
“Prove it.”
Lee had already accounted for this usual response and he slowly reached into his backpack and brought out magazines, newspapers and some photographs both from Cambodia and Vietnam and handed them around the villagers. The pictures depicted Vietnam and Cambodian officials together, cars, street scenes, festivals and wedding photographs from Lee, Vietnamese, and Su-Tee’s, Cambodian, happy day
Lee waited as the pictures were handed around, and M1 carbine still pointed at his face. This unwavering weapon, being wielded so steadily by a boy of around sixteen years-old, and his icy cold stare made Lee feel edgy.
After 15 minutes Nguyen went over to Lee
“Okay, so the war is over, thank you for letting us know, but what do you want?”
Lee thought for a moment and replied.
“It’s up to you. We can find your families and inform them you are all still alive. Then, if you chose, we can integrate you back into society and get you some much needed medical aid, supplies and modern utilities”
Lee noticed they used only rough clay pots and old and worn away army knives.
“Alternatively” said Lee. “You could remain here and I can get you communication devices to contact the other villages and towns nearby and maybe set up a small trade route”.
Nguyen spoke to a few of the elder villagers. He ordered his people to lower their weapons, which put Lee at ease, as he became unnerved by the boys unwavering stare.
The other soldiers went to mingle with a few of the villagers, especially the older ones, who had tried to remember their native language and now practiced their Khmer; it was a strange, exhilarating feeling for the gathered folk.
Nguyen returned after a few minutes of discussion with Darah and some other elder dwellers. He spoke to Lee.
“We have no other family, we are family, I have no recollection of my previous life and the others don’t wish to remember what happened in Cambodia all those years ago. We won’t understand the outside world”
Nguyen pointed to the boy that had previously been holding the rifle aimed so steadily at Lee’s head and announced.
“He’s my son, Ca, he could have shot the fluff out of your ears, he is that good a shot” and whispered proudly.
“The cold icy stare I taught him too.”
Ca smiled at the Colonel, gave him an icy stare, and then smiled.
Over the next few hours, an euphoric feeling abound in the centre of the village. The soldiers told stories to the older Cambodians, who had started to understand them as their memories of their native language returned. They informed them about how the country had changed over 17 years.
Despite some sporadic running battles from the few remaining Khmer Rouge guerrillas that had set up in Southern jungle retreats. The actual invasion and liberation took little over a year for the Vietnamese to overthrow the Khmer rouge, but bruised, battered and scattered factions of K.R, didn’t stop incursions and disruptive attacks until Pol Pot died in 1999
Lee and Nguyen sat together and spoke in Vietnamese. Lee told Nguyen how Vietnam had grown into a modern and multicultural society, embracing western music, culture and tourism. Nguyen soaked up all this information with interest, but when Lee informed him, that he could trace who he was from records and, find out if he’d had a family in Vietnam, Nguyen thought, but declined his offer
“If I have any family, then they must think that I am dead and would have new lives now, besides I can’t remember them, so to me they would only be strangers. Darah and Ca are my family now, so please don’t seek them out,” Nguyen requested.
Lee understood, and assured him that no attempt would be made to investigate his past.
They chatted until the sun went down, slowly the villagers started to return to their shelters. There were no blankets or cotton in the village, so the soldiers, including Lee, huddled in the centre around one of the small smoking embers of peanut shells that they burnt at night to keep the mosquitoes and other flying bugs away.
Daybreak, and the villagers, along with the soldiers cooked meals and carried out general chores. A meeting was held at 8 am, the villagers gathered in the centre.
Five soldiers and the younger village members went off and started to clear all the remaining booby traps.
Lee joined the meeting and, with the help of Nguyen, translating gave the villages their choices. Nguyen then separated a conversation with the villager’s.
Lee couldn’t understand this, so went and stood alone. Nguyen’s son went over and joined Lee. Ca could not speak Cambodian, only a little Vietnamese, which his father had taught him as a boy. Ca pointed at Lee’s sidearm then drew a small thin knife out of his waist belt. Lee observed this interesting boy, Ca pointed to a tree. And then threw the knife, which impaled the tree. He walked over to the tree, dislodged his knife, and showed it to Lee. Impaled on the blade was a small camouflaged lizard, which Ca removed and ate.
Lee was impressed, he’d had years of jungle training and thought he had the eyesight of an eagle and could spot anything moving, but he never saw the now digested reptile.
‘This kid is special’ thought Lee.
Lee and Ca, still trying to communicate were interrupted by Nguyen, who came over and told Lee that the village wanted to remain as it was, however they would accept assistance, especially medical help as dysentery had been a constant problem and, as some of the folk were old this could become fatal. Nguyen also requested construction materials, and tools.
Lee and his small troop left the village and returned to Phnom Penh in their small boat later that day.
The next few days bought a flotilla of small boats with builders, materials, basic tools, medical staff and Lee, along with his five soldiers. Over the next few days the villagers and workers mingled as they built small concrete and wooden dwellings. They’d received small amounts of foodstuffs and utensils and loaned a small boat. Nguyen and a few others travelled down river and discovered other villages along the main branch of the Mekong, a conduit of small basic villages that traded amongst themselves along the river as far as Phnom Penh.
Lee visited the village most days to chat with Nguyen and, although he’d witnessed first-hand, the corpses of the killing fields and the genocide within the country, Nguyen and Darah’s story touched him deeply.
After six days the village now had enough resources to give them a better quality of life, especially with the medical supplies that included supplies of Vitamins and minerals.
Builders taught the villages how to construct simple, but secure, homes from concrete and timber and they had small generators with a supply of fuel, which they could replenish by trading with their new neighbours.
It was now time for Lee and the outsiders to leave the village and return to Phnom Penh. The village location would be mapped although it would remain a quiet little self-contained community.
The villagers decided to stay, with exception. Nguyen approached Lee on the last day and asked him to take Ca and educate him. Nguyen and Darah realised they lose contact with him for a while, but they wanted the best chance for educating their son and Nguyen had noticed how Ca liked to spend time with the soldiers, especially Lee. Nguyen knew his son’s future didn’t lie within the village, which they now named Sereypheap: Khmer for Freedom
Lee was more than happy to help and informed Nguyen that because Ca was uneducated his best chance for a better life was to become a soldier. He had noticed Ca’s abilities and strengths while in the village and knew this boy could not only be taught, but could also offer his knowledge in the training of jungle skills and warfare. Ca, Nguyen, and Darah said a tearful farewell, and then Lee, Ca, and the few remaining stragglers from the building project and the soldiers, left the village.
Lee took the sixteen-year-old Ca back to the soldier’s quarters in Phnom Penh. He had thought about why Nguyen had called his son ‘fish’, but after a little chuckle to himself, decided if the Cambodian soldiers found out the meaning of his name and jibed him, it would make him tougher.
Lee then transferred Ca along with the other five soldiers returning them to their garrison at Takethmey village. Kambol. Angsnoul Dicstrict. Kandal Province. West of Phnom Penh. Lee would be his Commanding officer, teacher and, unofficial guardian.