Escape From Cambodia
By Ronnie Yimsut
 
The loud explosion rocked the surrounding forest sending tree branch and debris flying in all direction. I woke up from a deep sleep just in time to see the three men sprinted out from our present location. Moeun, Doeum, and Sek decided that it was time to move on out of the area under the cover of darkness—without me. Instinctively, I ran after the men whose bare feet can be seen reflecting off the burning forest. They were running hard and fast. It was easier for my smaller frame body to move through the thicket. I have no problem following them at all. At one point, I actually ran past them and had to wait for them to catch up. Thus it sets the stage for our escape from the jaw of death and from Cambodia for better or for worse. It was a spontaneous action without a single plan. It was either we escape or we face death. There was no easy choice. Either way it will be tough and challenging choice. It was a risky attempt, but we can not remain hiding in the forest any longer. We would die of starvation or of thirst at best and get shot or captured at worst. We had to escape, that much we all knew.

We, the four of us, kept on running until we came smack into an open clearing. Bodies began to pile up as we ran into each other when Sek, the man in front, stopped suddenly. We must have run at least four or five miles, according to my estimate. Everyone was short of breath and was breathing heavily from the mouth. We collapsed with extreme exhaustion. My heart was pumping hard as I peered into the open clearing. My fear was apparent. My body shook and ran on fear at that moment.
Late night in mid January, the moon was low but shinning bright in the western sky. The moonlight was bright enough that I could see Khmer Rouge’s jungle hammocks strung up between two trees just ahead of us in the clearing. There bound to be a guard or two watching the dragnet set to catch the rest of us. As far as I knew, the four of us were the only survivors and escapees from a group of over 250 men and women. As far as I knew, I was the only teenager to have made it thus far. I was, after all, the only teenager in the group. But I have not made it out of the wood yet. Not when there was Khmer Rouge soldiers waiting to capture and kill us.
Sek, the former military policeman, led the pack again on our belly and elbow. Slowly we crawled, stopped, listened, and observed our surrounding for any sign of danger. We followed this routine for about a mile before Sek got up and we quickly followed. Our slow cautious walk soon became a speedy pace and then a full speed run. We only slow down when the oldest man, Moeun, could no longer keep up the pace. I held my ground fairly well and kept up with the adult in speed and stamina. Slowly and cautiously we walked in the dim moonlit night.
Sek, the lead man, suddenly gave a yell and took off running as hard as he could. I followed closely right behind him and wasn’t sure why Sek took off running like that. As it turned out, we ran into a heard of buffalo resting in the area that Sek mistook for the Khmer Rouge patrol. Moeun and Doeum soon caught up and angrily yelled and cursed at Sek. I started to laugh again, for the first time in weeks. It was contagious as all were laughing, momentary forgetting that we were not out of danger zone yet. It was a great relief, nonetheless.
I later found a muddy water hole in the darkness where buffalo have been wallowing in earlier. The men immediately took turn drinking the disgusting--smelly liquid. I could not bring myself to drink the water without having to repeatedly throw up from the stench and smelly water. I remained thirty for the rest of the day and would be sorry for not being able to drink the disgusting liquid. I would pay for it later on when I needed and could have used any and all water.
The early morning light began to put the pressure on us to find a hiding place. We were the four fugitives on the run from Angkar and it would not be wise to be seen wandering around during the daylight hour. We found and hid in a small bush, one of many that scattered in the middle of the rice field just south of Cambodia’s National Highway 6. The highway runs between my home city of Siem Reap and neighboring Battambang, a well use and strategically important route to the Khmer Rouge. We did not want to cross the highway until nightfall, for safety reason. So we fan ourselves under the shade of the small bush all day long, waiting for the sun to set again.
Early morning chill brought numerous visits to the bush by morning doves, which would try their best to fight each other for their prime territory. A few failed to notice that there were people hiding directly under them. I gave up catching them after a few unsuccessful tries. More birds continued to land on the bush, repeatedly, and then flew off after noticing that there were people right below them. It was a prime real estate for both men and birds. It was quite a spectacle to observe the birds so close.
The sound of morning dove’s cry and chill morning air help sent me to sleep—all the while I was holding tight onto Moeun’s left arm for fear the men would run off without me again. However, during the midday heat, sleep was hard to come by when one is so very uncomfortable and miserably hungry and thirsty at the same time. I have never been so miserable at that moment, hiding and suffering under that bush. I was hot and thirsty and absolutely exhausted. I knew that I was slowly dehydrated from the intense heat. Even with the partial shading from the bush, it was terribly hot and humid. I didn’t think that I would make it that day. I felt like I was dying of heat stroke.
By about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, workers appeared in nearby fields to work. This situation sent chill through my spine as I also saw the absolute worry on the three men face. People would normally go to the bathroom and they usually use the bush for cover. We have a real chance of being discovered hiding under the bush! What would we do then if our hideout were discovered? What should we do if the workers report our present to Angkar? I was actually scared of being in contact with people! We were all very frightened of the prospect of being discovered. There was not much we can do, except to pray very, very hard and hope for the best.
After about an hour or so, the workers move on away from the area to our absolute relief. We breathe a sight of relief. We were safe, for now. It was then that a consensus was reached for the four of us to head toward Thai’s border and join up with the reported rumor of resistant fighters there. No one knows exactly where Thailand is, just somewhere to the northwest of us. The rest of the group, those, who survived, would have to be on their own. They would have to fight for their own survival as we were doing just now.
My love for geography in school came in very handy as I began to draw a map on the dirt for the three men. I told the men that I knew roughly where Thailand laid ahead of us, but I could not tell them how far or how much time it would take for us to get there. Without food, unknown territory and danger, it would be very difficult--if not impossible--for us reach Thailand in one piece. We did not have much of a choice, but to attempt the impossible.
I knew roughly where places laid just ahead of us. I was familiar with this area simply because I knew that Tapang village laid just north and northwest of National Highway 6. Tapang village is where I have lived and worked for more than two miserable years under Angkar’s reign. Highway 6 was the entire landmark I needed to navigate—even in the darkness of the night. I became the point man and led the group from there on—just because I was familiar with the region and knew a little bit about geography.
Dusk came at about 6 o’clock that evening and so did a cloud of mosquito. We decided to move out soon after and started to head north. I was in the lead. We soon ran smack into Highway 6, a narrow-paved road that ran east and west, about 10 o’clock. The distant headlight of vehicle traffic sent us scurry back down the road embankment. From the dim light caused by the high headlight beams, I could see armed guards on both my left and right. They were spreading out to about 100 yards apart—just far enough to see each other. It was Angkar’s secondary dragnet to catch any surviving rebels who were attempting an escape. They were waiting for us to show up.
I instinctively ducked down to the ground and the men immediately followed. I can see the men’s wide-open eyes in the dark that seemed to mix puzzlement with fear. I quietly pointed to both my left and right. The men slowly and cautiously peered to see the glowing cigarette light in the darkness. A good thing that all these bastards Khmer Rouge were chain smokers. We would have ran smack into them if their glowing cigarette smoke did not give their positions away!
Slowly we retreated back away from the highway on elbow and belly. We discussed our available option a safe distance away. Sek and Doeum would lead the first group to cross the highway and wait. Moeun and myself would follow when we feel it was safe enough to cross. While we were waiting to cross, I thought for sure that my growling and empty stomach would surely give us away. I was very scared. My knees were not in a very good shape. They were actually shaking uncontrollably. Some freedom fighter I was, I thought.
Approaching from the south embankment, Sek and Doeum crossed Highway 6 quickly, quietly, and safely at about 2 O’clock in the early morning. Moeun and I followed about five minutes later. It only took us a mere five seconds to quickly traverse the two-lane roadway, but it felt like an eternity. I did not dare to look to neither my left nor my right, but just straight ahead. We ducked down low to the ground on the north embankment of Highway 6 and listened carefully. So far so good. No one was shooting or running after us. I breathed a sight of relief when Sek finally signaled for us to crawl away from the area. We followed the former soldier quietly with a sense of urgency.
After about 5 kilometers of fast hike, almost a slow jog, I was one again on the lead position on a familiar road just east of Tapang village. No one was allowed to talk and I was setting the pace. Under the low moon to the west, we slowed down a bit to catch our breath. We walked quietly, slowly, and normally and heading directly north on our way toward the Thai-Cambodian border.
As we turned onto a blind curve road, a group of men were walking from the opposite direction. We ran smack into them. Our path crossed and it was unavoidable-even if we wanted to. The group of six or seven men, with their long-sharp bladed knives clearly reflecting off the moon light on their shoulders, stopped suddenly.
"Where are you going, Mith (comrade)?" It was more of a demand than a question coming from a man who appeared to be the leader of the group. "Where are you from?" He immediately followed with another salvo of question.
"We are heading to Tapang village, Mith. We came from our work site at Viel Smeth (rice fields) down south." My voice seemed to boom with confidant, which surprised myself a little. My three companions immediately parroted my reply.
"Why are you traveling so late, Mith? Don’t you know that there is a curfew in place?" Insisted the leader.
I hesitated momentarily, unable to give an immediate reply.
"A few hours ago Angkar Leu asked us to come back from our work down south right away. We do not know why. Angkar just asked us to return home to Tapang." Moeun stepped in calmly reason (a complete white lie) to the men who have their weapons ready as though they were posturing and ready for an attack.
Sek and Doeum kept their mouths shut, but I knew that they were ready. I can sense Doeum’s right hand was already felt the trigger of his rusty colt 45 pistol, which he carried with him at all time. There was only a single bullet left, but he was willing to give it to the first man that swings his blade toward us. It was a tense and awkward situation we were facing.
The leader just hissed and then lower his long-sharp blade down near his foot. Others followed soon after. They were all looking at us from top of our head down to our toe. In the dim light of the pre-dawn moon, I can feel the men’s eyes penetrating my body like X-ray beams, trying to interrogate us for more details. Satisfied, they waved us off and continued on their way south toward Highway 6. We walked slowly northward without looking back. No sooner than when we can any longer see their shadows, my three companions started to sprint as fast as they could. Every man for himself, I always knew. I followed close behind.
We must have covered at least two kilometers during our speedy sprint before the men slow down—more out of exhaustion than anything else. We pulled off to the northeast away from the main road that would have taken us in a northern direction. We decide that it was best to cover our track first. The men took a cover under a thorny brush off the side of the road. They were soon sound asleep, which bothered me a little. Doeum even snore loudly which did not help eased my anxiety a bit. I thought they were a bunch of fools—not leaders--at that very moment.
Hunger and thirst can drive a person insane. I was not an exception to this theory. I decided to forage for food nearby instead of sleeping with the men. I found a cucumber patch in a nearby field. In the dark, I felt my way around with my two hands and stuffed the succulent vegetable in my mouth and the rest rolled in my pant waist. I then climbed a sugar palm tree nearby hoping for the sweet liquid reward. I found more than enough of the sweet liquid to quench my 3 days worth of thirst. I must have drunk a full bamboo container of the sweet sugar palm juice. A burst of energy engulfed my body soon after. I was "re-dehydrated" so to speak. I brought the cucumber and left over sugar palm juice in two bamboo containers to share with the men.
"Any more, Ah Khaon? Any more?" The men asked, craving for more. They were just like a bunch of little kids, scrambling, fighting for a share.
"That all there is. There is no more, honest!" I replied while yawning. I was ready to take a little nap myself.
"Every man for himself!" I quietly told my not so guilty conscience. The men were a little disappointed suspecting that I took more than my share. That is life, I supposed.
I did not have a chance to take a nap like the men did. We soon made our way north and northeasterly direction in the hope of throwing off who ever might try to track us down. Dawn was approaching and we must find a place to hide once again. Daytime travel was a dangerous business for us. We moved rapidly and cautiously toward a destination that no one knew how far or how long it will take us. We hope for the best and expected the worst.
We arrived in a remote forested area northeast of Tapang village, I suspected. Walking along an old oxcart trail kept our eyes and ears wide open for any sigh of danger. The men have not been this far north before. I was the only one who has been to the part previously. And so, I was made a point man once more. I accepted the challenge with stride and confidant. We began a serious trek.
After a while, we decided to take a rest again in a wooded area not too far away. Red ants seemed to be in every bush we tried to hide in. We ended up hopping from bush to bush looking for a secure place to rest and hide during the day light hour. We did our best to avoid places with red ants. We did not dare travel during the daytime and we tried to avoid coming in contact with people all together. We found a spot where we have to contend with fewer stinging red ants. With extreme torture, difficulty, and strong endurance, we tried to sleep and conserve our energy as best as we possibly could.
Moeun woke me up from a light sleep. Sek and Doeum were gone. I sense a little panic in Moeun face as he was trying to look for our two missing companions. They were gone, without us! I followed Moeun around in our attempt to search for the two men.
"Ah Doeum, Ah Sek!" Moeun finally yelled out loud out of absolute frustration. No one reply except the echo of his voice.
We ran into the two men later on near a herd of grazing cattle. They were eating cooked rice as they walk back toward us. I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I was not seeing a mirage. Moeun cursed at the two men while at the same time reaching for the rice being hand out.
"Brothers, we found food! Here, have some!" Doeum said excitedly.
"Where did you get it from?" Moeun asked while chewing on the still warm white rice and a piece of cooked-dried fish.
Moeun didn’t really care about the answer. Both Moeun and I ate what was available licking our fingers, still craving for more to eat.
Hunger drove Doeum and Sek to do desperate thing. They went out hoping to find what ever to eat. They met with kids herding the cattle who send them to the elders at a nearby camp. Doeum knew the elder men at the camp who obviously knew about the recent rebellion.
We quickly ate dinner with the old men and boys who were there to take care of the cattle for Angkar. They told us that Angkar had captured and killed many of our fellow rebels. A few, like us, have escaped and passed through this area a day earlier. They sympathized with our plight and were willing to help out where possible. They also informed that the family of those involved have been "relocated" soon after. Moeun, Doeum, and Sek knew then that Angkar has wiped out their own family. I can see Doeum’s eyes swelled with tears after hearing it from the men.
In exchange for a silk towel, the Khmer kromar, we received uncooked rice and some salt from the men. Doeum took off his long trouser, tied up the leg bottom, and filled it with rice that was to sustain us during our trek to Thailand. We now have rice, a cooking pant, a lighter, a bit of salt, and two bamboo containers full of clear water. The old men sent us off, soon after our dinner of rice and salted fish, fearing that Angkar agents might be here soon. They did not have to ask us to leave twice. We took off soon after darkness consumed the area.
Again, I was on the lead. My landmarks were familiar ones. The early morning sunlight soon helped me pin point our precise location. I excitedly told the men that I know exactly where we were now as we stood on the top of a dike. To my disappointment, the reservoir was completely dried up. Instead of clear water as I expected, there was just muddy ground and nothing more. The reservoir designed by Angkar finest failed miserably.
Who can forget one of the largest man-made reservoirs, all dug by hands and backbreaking work? I spent nearly three months out in this remote area, working like a beast of burden. Slave labor probably works less than what Angkar made me and ten thousands other "New People" work, without enough food. I was here not more than six weeks earlier, trying to survive in the Youth Mobile Brigade. I help built this reservoir with my bare hands for three miserable months! Only my bed ridden illness helped send me back to my home base in Tapang village to the west.
Standing on the high dike like a conquering general, I pointed the area to the men and explained away all I knew about this area that was a home to me for three miserable months. There, the palm trees that I used to work for meager sweet juice, mostly doing the work at night. We walked over to the dark and slender tree. To my surprise, someone else still worked on the tree for juice. A few bamboo containers can be seen strung around the palm flower buds. I climbed the bamboo ladder quickly, hoping for more sweet reward from my old palm tree friend. Sure enough, each container was almost half full. I took a sip. Ah, the same familiar sweet taste from my old tree--only this time is was much, much sweeter.
"Come on down with the juice or we’ll go without you!" Doeum yelled at me from below.
I came down the tree with almost two bamboo containers full of the sweet liquid. The three men immediately took turn and gobbled up every single drop. I was hoping to get some more, but "every man for himself" rule took effect. They did not share! I should have drink a lot more when I was up on that tree. Next time, a good lesson learned, I won’t make the same mistake again.
Satisfied, the men dozed off under the tree for a moment. I soon joined in, but feel uncomfortable under someone else palm tree and in the open. Exhaustion can impaired and overruled a person good judgment. We foolishly fell asleep there.
I wasn’t sure how long we were there, but no more than ten minutes had passed. It was early dawn and the sunlight began to shine in the east. We moved on out again quickly. The forest was getting thicker and thicker. Soon the trail disappeared all together. We were discussing our option and next move. Sek decided that we should start to head north again. We all agreed and followed Sek who began to work the old trail.
"Oh, no! I forgot the salt!" Doeum yelled with great disappointment.
"Where? How can you?" The rest screamed at Doeum for losing our precious resource.
"At the bottom of the sugar palm tree! I put it down there while Ah Khaon climbed the tree." He screamed back loudly.
"I am so sorry!" he put his head down with sorrow and almost wept knowing that it would be too far to go back and try to find it. It may not be possible to retrace our path, we all knew.
"Let’s move on. Consider it as a payment to the owner of the sugar palm tree." Moeun wisely reasoned. All shook our head in agreement.
By about five in the morning, we took a little break in a more dense forest with larger trees. I was frightened by the sound of the howling animals that the men said with a wide grin were timber wolves. I moved closer to Moeun for protection. Sek got up first and lead the pack again through the wood knowing that I have reached my most frontiers. I was no longer the "expert" guide in this area, they said laughing out loud. Moeun followed with me close behind.
I tapped Doeum on the shoulder and said, "let’s go" before I walked off. Little did I realize that Doeum was already sound asleep, whilst sitting on a down log during the short rest. He did not know that we took off again. A few hundred yards later, Doeum wailing can be heard that seemed to reverberate throughout the forest.
"Where are you guys? Why you left me here all by myself! How could you?" Doeum’s outburst cries went on and on that echoed in the forest and scared the hell of the so-called "timber wolves". They were no longer howling as they did. Only Doeum’s cries could be heard.
Even the most stupid Khmer Rouge pursuers can find Doeum. He was crying like a little lost kid. And he was completely lost. We have to yell back and went back to get him. He was a frightened man. I grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him with me. I had to console him to calm him down. It was unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable.
A few days later, I lost count; we got to an area called "Sre Noy." Sek has been here before to cut bamboo for Angkar. He seemed to be confident and knew the road. We were now confident enough to walk during the daylight hour and sleeping at night. I started to lag behind with my bared and blistered feet. I could not be any more miserable than now. The men would have to leave me behind if I was unable to walk under my own power, that much I knew. No one wants to carry me. Every man for himself, I remembered. I wanted to live! I kept the pace with the men and walked with a great determination on my blistered feet.
We met up with a convoy of oxcarts going south, the opposite direction, packed with bamboo. We must look awful to the people in the convoy. Sek asked a man to confirm that we were heading in the right direction—to Sre Noy—not Thailand. We were heading in the right direction with a few more kilometers to go.
Instead of continue going northeast toward Sre Noy, we took a more northwesterly direction. Again, we were hoping to confuse who ever tried to track our path and headed more into the correct direction for Thailand. It was a great move as we found out later. A search and destroy party was not far behind us, as we later learned. We were just a head of them. They went off to Sre Noy hamlet while we were heading for the remote hill instead. The oxcart convoy people apparently reported our position. The chase was on and our trail was still hot.
We came face to face with a middle-aged man near a fenced area. Again, it was unavoidable. The man with a razor
sharp long knife, the phkak, looked at us from head down to toe and scrutinized our soul with his keen eyes.
"Where are you going, Mith? Where?" He demanded an answer sternly.
I followed Doeum who continued walking away from the man without answer the him. Moeun and Sek replied to the man behind us, which was barely audible. They soon follow Doeum and I—with the man followed closely behind them. They were not actually running, but the pace was quickened. We all picked up speed.
"Stop! Stop! I order you to stop, Mith Tmey! Stop now!" The strange villager screamed out loud toward the four of us.
We picked up even more speed, more like a fast hike, while ignoring the villager completely. The villager then took off the opposite direction. Sensing the need for speed, Doeum was the first to take on the initiative. He sprinted fast leaving the three of us catching up from behind. I could only see a trail of dust and Doeum’s pale foot bottom. We all ignited our turbo charge and followed Doeum immediately. For a brief moment, I almost completely forgot all about the pains, hunger, and exhaustion. I was on pure adrenaline rush.
A few kilometers of running later, which I was even surprised of my own ability, all the men slowed down to a fast walking pace--like the one in the Olympic. Worry faces were all around, I can see. The villager was surely going to report to Angkar and a dragnet may once again sprung up to capture us. I was not too scared, just plainly exhausted. I had to jog to catch up with my companion’s walking pace. Every man for himself, I knew the rule of the road. I held my ground fairly well, all things considered.
Once again, we suddenly ran into a group of women and girls on this dusty and desolated road. We surprised and scared them a bit for our sudden face-to-face meeting in the middle of nowhere. They looked at us and we looked at them.
"Smile, people! Smile!" Moeun insisted quietly to the three of us.
We tried our best to show our best friendly faces, but get no response from the villagers. They slowed down and so did we. Soon, we met up in a middle of the road. More blind stare from them as though they have not seen us before. They have not. We must have look very strange to them, like alien or something. As a courtesy, they moved off to the side of the small road, which allowed us to pass by. We all nodded our heads with appreciation.
"Are we heading the right direction, to Sre Noy that is?" Moeun politely broke the ice.
They just stood there on the side of the road, frozen stiff. One of the women shook her head as a "yes" answer. All of a sudden, the rest of them said, "no!" in unison and all pointed toward the north. We were actually heading west at that time.
"Thank you all. Thank you kindly." We quickly continued to move on westward nonetheless.
We went off a small road and spent the night there. As we bedded down for the night, half dozen military jeeps passed by. They were all Khmer Rouge soldiers armed to the teeth, I witnessed. Scared, we took off west and then north instead. The "cat and mouse" game would be played and replayed for almost four days. We were just a step or two ahead of Angkar’s search and destroy party with only forest, hills, and darkness of the night as our cover. We went to bed hungry and no warm fire for fear of being discovered. We all pray hard for a safe night and see the sun rise for at least another day. I have a bit of problem sleeping with an empty stomach, but my system soon began to adapt. We all had to adapt if we were going to survive.
By mid afternoon, we were completely lost in the deep forest. We finally reached a forest-covered hill and found a footpath after hours of being lost. Soon after, we ran into a father and son team who were collecting resin from the trees on the hill appropriately called "Resin Mountain." We politely asked them for direction to Anlong Veng, a region in neighboring Odor Meanchey Province that borders Thailand. The son pointed to the opposite direction, more of westerly direction, the area where we might have come from. The older man, the father, kept very quiet and didn’t say a word. Being lost, we followed the given direction. What else is there for us to do?
Little did we know that we have actually trekked toward Sre Noy area where the two men apparently knew that the Khmer Rouge soldiers were looking and waiting for us. No more than 20 minutes later, the two men were running to catch up with us from behind.
"Don’t go there, brothers! They’ll capture and kill you!" They said while breathing very hard, trying to catch their breath. "Angkar soldiers are looking for you. Don’t go that way, brothers!" They continued, almost pleading.
I clearly noticed that they were using the term "brothers" instead of the required "Mith or comrades" when referring to us. It was a sign that they were now honest with their information. The men apparently knew all about our rebellious group and the escape. They knew that many people were captured and killed following our botched attempt to overthrow Angkar. Deep in their hearts they applauded our courage, failure or not didn't matter to them. At least we were trying our best to fight against the mighty Angkar. No one else had dared to do that before. We were a sort of "heroes." They felt that they should help us after seeing the cruelty exercised by Angkar’s soldiers. There were a few who came through the area ahead of us, but they were all captured and eventually killed after a prolonged torture and interrogation. They had to help us, they said.
They gave us the correct direction to Anlong Veng. They also gave us a better lighter, which was very precious to anyone under Angkar’s reign—especially out here in the deep forest. The old man even blessed and taught us chanting words before sending us on our way again. I still remember and knew the chanting words by heart today and often recite the verse in time of crisis. I believe in the verse potency given to us by the two saviors.
"Tell the world when you get to Srok Thai (Thailand) about what happened here, about the suffering of our country and people! Don’t forget brothers! Don’t forget!" They last said before waving good-bye.
We never did tell them about going to Thailand. They knew, nonetheless, to our surprise. We have to make it and tell the world of our plight, our people suffering under Angkar’s "great leap forward." We have to make it, we all knew.
Up and down the steep and rocky terrain we went, almost blindly. After the Resin Mountain, there were more hills to climb, dense forests to penetrate, and wide-open fields for us to traverse. We eventually arrived at a dried up stream crossing the road with sandy bottom. We stopped there to rest off the small dusty road for a moment. Excitement and the speedy pace took its toll on our energy level. We ran out of drinking water and were in desperate need of some. There was not a single drop there. Sek went off further along the dried stream bed while we sat there watching a group of long-tailed black monkeys on the tall trees nearby. They were getting more and more aggressive toward us. Doeum tried to "shoo" them away, but they continued to mock our present. I was fearful of the monkeys' aggressiveness and hung tight to Moeun’s left arm.
"Don’t worry, Ah Khaoan (little brother). We’ll eat them if they come any closer. We need the meat," Moeun said calmly.
I relaxed a little. At that same instance, Sek was running back very fast and was screaming atop of his lungs.
"Animal! Big animal! Run quickly!" He yelled toward us while at the same time climbing up a tree faster that the black-long tailed monkeys.
Instinctively, the other two men followed. Stunned, I was left standing there alone and confused. I wasn’t sure what to do. My mind was not registered fast enough for the information given. I soon followed the men who were already on top of the highest tree branch. I could not climb the big tree! The men yelled again and again for me to come on up over my frustrated soul. I could not climb the dawn tree! I could not reach the closest branch and pull myself up.
After so many failed attempts, I gave up and opted for a smaller tree nearby instead. The men just shook their heads knowing that the small tree won’t do. I can see in their eyes and in their expression that I will be the group's first casualty for sure.   I hung on to the small tree, more like a short shrub, and waited for that "big animal" to arrive. A sun bear lazily walked pass our "safe trees" like we weren’t there.
"Is that your "big animal?" I looked up to Sek and asked him angrily.
"Yeah, what do you expect? An elephant or something?" Sek replied sheepishly.
One should have heard the way Doeum and Moeun repeatedly cursed at Sek at that moment. It sounds almost like two live auctioneers at work all at once. That was the excitement of the day. We slowly backed away from the scene, while the wild sun bear looked at us from afar. As we walked away, I could only imagine what the bear was thinking, "what are these fools doing up on top of that tree? And what is that skinny boy doing on that puny shrub in the first place?" It was absolutely ridiculous.
By about 4 o’clock that same day, we arrived at a thick bamboo forest. There were signs of human activities, mainly of bamboo harvesting, in the area. Slashes and other woody debris were all over the area which made walking barefooted much more difficult, if not impossible. We found an old grass hut that appeared to be abandoned and decided to check it out. We were hoping to find something useful, but there was none. We just sat in the hut, taking a little break. Sek walked out and explored the surrounding. No sooner than when he left the group, the sound of very loud popping noises reverberated in the bamboo forest. It sounded almost like exploding gunfire.
"Let’s get out of here! Run! Run!" We all heard Sek screamed loudly just outside.
Sek took off running, alone, I can hear. He didn’t wait for us. "Every man for himself," I remembered. Doeum was long gone in a flash. The old and the weak, Moeun and myself got left behind, essentially. I quickly followed Moeun. We were all scattered in all different directions, with the exception of Moeun and I who remained together. It was a very chaotic scene. My barefoot could not go very fast without stepping on the sharp-thorny wild bamboo branch on the ground. Moeun did not fare any better and our mad dash for safety soon crawled to a snail pace. It was more like tiptoeing through the forest rather than sprinting.
I heard Sek screamed out loud in absolute agony not too far away through the loud popping sound, which I was sure it was gunfire. "Sek has been shot and wounded!" I thought for sure. I looked into Moeun’s terrifying eyes for answer, for guidance, for help. I got none. He quickly dove to the ground for cover. I followed and ran smack into more sharp thorns. I could not scream, but simply whimpered quietly in extreme agony. I was in tear from the pain. Moeun fare no better either.
"Help me! Help me! Please help me!" Sek pleaded.
I was thinking, "every man for himself, every man for himself, every man for himself." I tried hard to shut out Sek's desperate plea for assistance. I could not and attempted to get up. Moeun pushed me back down and signaled for me to be very still.
"Anyone, please help me!" Sek continued to plead.
I was all torn up inside. I wanted to rush to Sek and helped him, regardless of the danger. Then I saw the thick cloud of smoke not too far in the direction of the loud popping sound. It was not gunfire we heard! It was the fire that causes the bamboo many airtight chambers to explode. I told Moeun about my theory and he agreed. Slowly and cautiously he poked his head up to look around, just to make sure the coast is clear. It was clear. No one was there except our frightful souls and Sek’s agonizing scream.
We rushed toward Sek, knowing that we were safe. Sek was wounded, but not from any bullet. He was in fact had a large bamboo thorn lodged deep into the bottom of his right foot. He was in pain, yes. He was holding his leg and painfully continued to plead for help. Moeun yelled for Doeum to come out by assured him that everything is all right. Doeum was gone. Just disappeared from the scene.
Moeun and I helped with the operation of removing the ugly large thorn from Sek’s right foot. With the last loud scream,
the thorn came out along with gushing red blood. Sek was our group's first casualty by being the first to be wounded for our stupidity. And we were still no where near Thailand’s frontier. We had no idea where we were at that time. We were lost again.
Doeum came limping back a while later. Sek’s wound has already been dressed and a crude-walking crutch was made for him. We moved on north with the setting of the sun to our left. Sek clung onto Moeun and Doeum’s shoulders and our pace was slowed considerably. Every man was no longer for himself, not any more. We have to help each other if we are going to survive this trek, we all knew. And so we were helping each other to make sure that all four of us will make it to the free world and freedom beyond. We became blood brothers and I was the youngest, if not the wisest, of them all.
Sek was hurting badly and may have an infection from his wound. He was running a low-grade fever. His bleeding has stopped, but he was as weak and pale as can be. We decided to spend the night near a logging road that we hope was leading us into Thailand. The area on both side of the road was completely clear of large tree. We were sort of exposed to the surrounding. We did our best to find a good cover to hide in. After a light meal, which dipping more and more into our dwindling rice supply, we all went to sleep. It was safer to travel at night, but it was best that we rest and start early in the morning. Besides, Sek was in a bad shape. We all needed the rest after all the excitement earlier.
I woke up to the sound of what I thought was a charging elephant. We were in wild elephant country, according to the signs, which include elephant droppings. I instinctively climbed a small tree near by, which may not be good for anything. I yelled aloud to warn the men, who were also scattering in different direction at the same instance. Then there was a bright light that appeared to light up the darkness of the night. It belonged to a convoy of logging trucks, returning for more timber from the area, we found out. We were still shaking from the ordeal and took a deep sigh of relieve. It was a nightmare that would keep us awake all night long. We decided to move on out again under the cover of darkness, following the logging trucks, which was a big mistake.
About four kilometers later, the open clearing became almost pitch black with big tall trees on both sides of the road. We were in the real jungle now. Doeum was in the lead for the very first time, followed closely behind by Sek and Moeun. We trekked side-by-side, shoulder to shoulder on the wide logging track road. I was lagging a little behind the men when I heard someone else making a coughing noise, as though he was trying to clear his throat. Perhaps he was trying to let us know that he was there and aware of our present. The noise was immediately off to our left. I moved faster and closer to Moeun.
"Did you hear that?" I whispered nervously.
A simple "yes" in return from Moeun was all I heard before two dogs started barking to our right. They immediately came rushing out after us without any hesitation. I could see their shadow and speedy rushing noise through the darkness toward us.
Doeum, the point man, immediately took off running hard straight ahead followed by Moeun and Sek. The dogs did not follow them, but head straight toward me. I struggled to do my best on the sandy road. I heard a commotion and saw people’s shadow stirred up to my right. A small bond fire could now be seen and more people scrambling from their hammocks. I saw jeeps with machine guns mounted on it, along with logging trucks parked in a clearing. This must be a resting area for the loggers.
Automatic rifle shots, in full automatic, rank out and reverberated throughout the dark forest. The distinctive and familiar sound of Chinese made AK-47 was unmistakable. I recognized the sound in an instance. It was no where close to the burnt bamboo chambers. However, I was not too concern about the bright red tracers pouring my way. I was more worry about the damn dogs, which were closing in, fast behind my ass than the flying bullets. Bullet bite hurts, but dog bite is much more painful, I felt. It was chaotic scene from the worst possible nightmare there is. My three adult companions were long gone, ran off into the dark-dense jungle. I was running alone on a very soft and sandy road, being shot at and closely chased by two large dogs. What can I do? What can anyone do, but keep on running and screaming madly at the same time? That is exactly what I did. I kept on running like hell, screaming the top of my lungs, without even bother to think. After all that I have been through in my young age, is this how it will end? I did not want to end it this way, killed by dog bite.
I ran smack into a huge 4-6 foot diameter log laid across the dirt road as barricade. It was higher that my shoulder. I could not possibly climb over it in my wildest dream. I bounced off the gigantic log several times before the first dog took their best shot at my leg. He got a hold of one of the legs of my pants and immediately ripped it out completely. I screamed with extreme horror. My once long cotton pants became a very stylized short, at least one of the legs anyway.
The second dog rushed in as I turned toward it with my back leaning against the giant log. I gave it a karate kick, a kick I learned from my older brother Larony, to the head as though my life depends on it. It worked! I momentarily stunted the animal. Both came after me again at the same time. I heard myself screamed in horror. Suddenly, a pair of hands yanked me off the ground from behind. I thought for sure that my guardian angel was finally here, right in time. I turned my face to see Moeun who actually threw me from atop and across the five-foot diameter log toward the other side. I landed with a "phlup" sound on the sandy road. I got up quickly and ran for my life. I did not even bother to brush the sand and dust from my mouth, face, or body. I did briefly look for Moeun, just to make sure that he made it out. He was a busy man.
The log stopped the two dogs just for a moment. They ran around to the other end of the log and came crashing through the forest. Bursts of gunfire rank out loud sending tracers and slamming repeatedly onto the log. Moeun took a swing at the two dogs with a stick sending them running back to their owners. I kept on running; I was still screaming--I realized. Moeun soon caught up and actually has to drag me off the logging road. We head right into the thick jungle. More gunfire can be heard chasing after us. We laid down low on the dark forest floor and listened carefully. I held my breath, fearing the dogs will hear me, until I almost ran out of air and was just about to pass out. I was shaking violently with fear, I noticed. Moeun and I crawled away from the area soon after.
The next morning, after a sleepless night, we follow a trail of smoke and the smell of roasted meat, literally. We were hungry and were hoping that it was our fellow comrades. On the other hand, we figure that only a fool would start a fire and cook meat after being chased and shot at. Peering cautiously through the dense vegetation, the sight surprised and pleased us at the same time. Sure enough, Doeum and Sek were there chewing on the roasted meat. They miraculously ran into each other that same morning and capture a slow moving forest turtle. Moeun and I found them roasting and eating the turtle—without any water to drink.
"Join us!" Doeum said simply and casually.
We immediately complied without a second invitation. I have never been much of a turtle meat fan, but the numerous eggs in its belly were magnificently delicious. Miraculously, I still have two bamboo containers almost full of water, despite of my traumatic ordeal the previous night. The other two precious bamboo containers carried by Moeun were used to slam on the two dogs and completely destroyed. What little of the precious liquid I have preserved would eventually help saved all our lives in the deep jungle of northern Cambodia as we trek aimlessly among wild beasts, including herd of wild elephants and black rhinos.
After more than five days (I lost count again) of being lost in the deep jungle, we ran out of drinking water completely. Our rice supply was down to only a few meals at best, perhaps two tin cups. Wild fruits, leave, and berries were the primary things that supplement our meager ration and sustains our body. We spent our time seeking water and forage for edible, while trying to head north and northwest toward Thailand. I knew that all of us were just skin and bone and nothing more. My energy level was almost nonexistent. I could not climb a tree to look for a way out even if I wanted to. Besides, the trees were monstrous, some 10-20 feet in diameter, way to big for any mortal man to climb anyway. We followed elephant trails, which either appeared or go all over the place. Most of the time the trails led us to a muddy water hole where the beasts once wallowed. Water, if any, was very muddy, smelly, and not for human consumption. It was just too dirty or too smelly for anyone.
I never thought we would ever find our way out of this jungle. We were utterly lost in a deep forest full of majestic trees. Even the sunlight could hardly penetrate the thick forest canopy. Nighttime was completely void of any light, even during a full moon. Nothing except darkness, pitch black prevailed. We trekked freely and endlessly during the daylight hour without fear of seeing another human being. Wild beast, especially the large-notorious mountain python, which roamed the area freely day and night, would attack our worst fear. The men were very afraid of the big snake, which we have not yet seen, just the sign. Occasionally, wild peacocks and chicken would took off flying from their hiding place and would scare the hell out of us. I saw many white Gibbons howling, jumping, and swinging from tree to tree. They must have not seen people before as they came very close and observed our every move through the forest. It reminded me of "Tarzan" the ape-man. I wished then that I had had their skill and energy.
On the morning of the fifth day, one elephant trail finally led us to a clearing. There we found a gooseberry tree full of juicy yellow fruit. Doeum tossed everything he was carrying and rushed the tree. Our rice supply was gone a couple days earlier and hunger can drive a man mad. Doeum was already up on the small fruit tree in the clearing when I got there. I was there just in time to get a large branch hit smack on my head when Doeum came crashing down with it. I was knocked out for a moment. I woke up to see Moeun’s laughing face. He was fanning rapidly in his attempt to revive me. I was so mad and ended up with a large bump on the head. I hated Doeum even more.
Now that our rice supply was completely gone, Doeum’s long pant became a storage space for the wild fruit we collected. It was to be our meal until we reached Thailand, wherever it is. Competition for food was always tough for me, the smallest guy, to compete. Without Moeun persistence urging and support, I may not make it. Moeun often shared what he had found and dragged me along. He took upon himself to watch over my welfare. I am forever grateful to this gentle old man.
The open field gave way to small brush and shrubby plain with sparse large tree. Fire regime in this area must be endemic as herds of grazing animal can be seen all over the place. They chewed on the golden dry grass; some blackened by a recent fire. We could not get close to the animal without them running away. Doeum was tempted to use his last bullet in the chamber of his colt 45 on the animal, but he could not get close enough to get his last shot off. After a few failed attempts, he gave up and we moved on again.
We found a few familiar nuts, the "kokoss," on the ground under a large tree. We started to crack them open and roast them in an open flame. That ran out, we found another kind of larger nut, the "unkogne," that no one really sure if it was edible. It smelled just like peanut after it was roasted it. Hunger finally prevailed over sensibility and caution. We took our share of 1/4 of the almost palm-size nut. No sooner than 10 minutes following consumption, all hell broke lose. The first symptom was a severe headache, followed by vomiting and then severe diarrhea. We all paid the price for our carelessness. I paid the heaviest price. I never thought that I would live through it. After all my fight for survival, it appeared that I would end up dying so shamelessly. But my time to go was not here yet. I fell so sick and so stupid. On the bright side, the only thing that did die was the long worm in my body, which came out voluntarily by the half dozen. They could not deal with the poisonous nut that tasted like peanut. They just dropped dead and cleared out of my system altogether. No wonder I was so skinny. The worms have been taking more than their share of nutrients from my body. A good thing that they died off indeed. Now, I have extra bonus nutrient to supplement my thin body, if I can find anything edible in this nowhere land.
The open plain turn into thick elephant grass country and deep-dried riverbeds and canyons. We thought that we have arrived in an area called Anlong Veng in Odor Meanchey Province. Next stop, the Dongrek Rang and Thailand’s border beyond that, according to my geography class. We weren’t sure about anything, especially when we lost our way. We looked for the first land mark, the Dongrek mountain range, but it was nowhere to be seen. It would be three more days of walking before we could see the majestic green shadow of the famous mountain range in the distant northwest.
Three days of hiking without food and very little water later; we finally emerged from the thick and tall elephant grass. We found and followed a road leading directly north. After a while, the road divided into many different directions with one continued toward the north. Despite the freshly visible vehicle tracks, we didn’t have much choice but to continue travel on the same road heading northwesterly. The majestic green mountain range loomed in the far distance. We got closer and closer by the hour. My heart skipped a few beats and my spirit soared. The men were over joy and started to dance like a bunch of drunken men. Thailand border with Cambodia, we all knew, was somewhere over the other side of that stretch of hills. With spirit raised and a renewed burst of energy, our pace quickened toward our objective.
We were extremely excited, but also keenly aware of the potential dangers in the area. Our instinct was strong. Surely Angkar’s finest will be there guarding Cambodia—not from any foreign invaders—but from their own people who were trying to escape brutality and death. Sek, the military man, was once again the logical choice to lead the group. His wounded right foot had healed well enough to run fast if we must. He would move from behind a tree trunk to another and another to help concealed his body. We did the same "behind the tree trunk hopping." This went on for all open areas until we got to a forested area near the foot of the hill. It was time consuming and very tiring. Yet it was a necessary part of concealment process, Sek told us. We have to avoid all living people at all cost, now more than ever. The chance of running into the Khmer Rouge was very real. We were in real danger zone now after a few days of roaming freely in the jungle of northwest Cambodia.
In the sparsely forested area, we found more trees full of sweet and sour fruit. We knew it was edible and started to pick and stuff the green-marble size fruit in our mouth. We were more or less just like a bunch of foraging and starving monkeys in the forest.
Suddenly, we could hear footsteps not too far away. I was so afraid of people now and was actually frozen stiff. Sek signaled with his hand. All immediately dropped down to the ground. I stopped breathing for an eternity, it seemed, fearing discovery. I was shaking once again from absolute fear. I wish I had my "Cave Man Club" again. I would take a few with me before I go to hell.
The Khmer Rouge patrol was walking and whistling Angkar’s revolutionary song not too far away. Sek gave another hand signal and all laid flat on our belly. The whistling soldiers came closer and closer toward our position. I remained stiff and barely breathing. I was very frightened and covered by a few small low shrubs. From my low vantage position on the ground, a mere 5 feet away, I could clearly see black pajama clad soldiers--sporting their favorite uncle Ho Chi Minh rubber tire sandal--approaching. The patrol soon passed by us. I counted twelve soldiers armed to the teeth with AK-47’s and B-40 Rocket Propel Grenades, a standard Angkar’s issue.
Scared stiff, I stopped breathing for a very long, long time. They would have shot me dead right there where I was, if they see me. I say the verse that the old man from Resin Mountain gave us repeatedly. I also prayed to the lord God to help me out just one more time, and I shall ask no more. In return, I promised to be good and become a novice monk for a week. I kept one of the two promises thus far, by being good. I’ll become a monk for a week, as promised, whenever the time is right.
We insanely took a siesta right by a main road on the foothill that was being heavily patrolled and guarded by the soldiers. It could have been a very costly mistake! And it was a very close call. As soon as the patrol was gone, Sek once again crawled on his elbow and belly away into the forest. We followed his every move. We followed him carefully and tried very hard not to make any sound.
"Land mines here! Watched for that trip wire there!" Sek stopped abruptly and whispered as he pointed toward a thin black wire low on the ground that was barely visible to the naked eyes—even with the day light. "Booby traps to our left and right, be careful!" He continued in his audible whisper mode.
"You come with us, Ah Khaoan, or you’ll be left behind! Your choice!" Moeun sternly warned me noticing my hesitation.
I was so scared after that ordeal and I was actually afraid to take another step on the land mine ridden ground. We blindly walked into a minefield! I was frozen stiff. I didn’t have much of a choice. Either I was scared to death, stayed there and died or I follow the men. Reluctantly, I followed the men carefully, stepping exactly on the very same spot where Sek once stood. We were about 20 yards apart, for safety reason, in case one mine accidentally went off. I have not been that far away from the men before and afraid that the men might actually abandon me there. I was the last person in the line and not feeling very secure at that moment.
It took us nearly half a day to cross the terrifying mine fields and booby traps. The progress was slow and cumbersome. Without Sek’s military skills, we may not have made it out of these dangerous fields. We would have been doomed, blew to bit or wasted. We were so close to Thai’s border and yet we were so far, far away.
Doeum was actually shaking with what appeared to be another bout with malaria. Over the past three days his violent shivered symptoms has been increasing more frequently. He would shook uncontrollably and violently for an hour before it subsided. Fearing the rest leaving him behind, he stubbornly followed the group. It did not help our tense situation in the minefields full of booby traps with his uncontrollable sharking, moaning, and groaning. He had to fight that one on his own. I felt so sorry for him, but he was making way too much noise! He could well have endangered all of our lives.
We came to a dead stop on the edge of a 50 yards clearing that seemed to run for ever along the toe of Dongrek Rang, going straight from east to west. Every 100 yards or so, along this stretch of clearing, there was a guard station manned by a Khmer Rouge sentry with an AK-47 assault rifle. Again, all the bastards smoked cigarette, which amber can be clearly seen glowing in the distance.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Sek pulled his hair in utterly frustration. "What is next?" He asked himself banking his head on a nearby tree trunk. He was cracking up under heavy pressure and high stress.
"Ah Sek, take a rest. I’ll take the lead. We all need a rest badly and let’s wait for the sun to set before we cross this treacherous section." Moeun said optimistically. I was so amazed of his courage and wisdom.
"What about the mine fields ahead?" Sek spoke coldly with almost teary eyes.
"Ah Khaon and I will take care of it. You and Ah Doeum just take it easy and relax. We’ll make it, brother!" Moeun insisted.
"Oh no, not me! I can’t go up front now. I don’t know anything!" I quickly resisted when Moeun mentioned my name to be a CO-team leader, wading through an area infested with land mines and traps.
Moeun just smile wryly trying to encourage all of us. Deep inside I knew he was just as scared as any one of us there. Someone got to lead. With Doeum and Sek out of commission, there were only Moeun and myself. I reluctantly followed close behind Moeun who was in the lead. We took a nap a little away from the clearing with Moeun taking the first watch. He woke me up a few hours later and then was sounding asleep soon after. Doeum did not snore, thank God or I would have kicked him myself if he did. Watching Doeum laying there on the ground, I thought for a moment that he was dead. The man was fighting his fever, fighting for his life all the way.
I woke all of them up when the sun set as instructed by Moeun. We decided to cross at dust, one at a time, as soon as it got dark enough. The wait was an excruciating long, long time. I never thought that it would be "dark enough," ever. We were all nervous, more like a bunch of scared rabbits than people running for their lives were.
We ducked when a military truck passed by with its bright headlights. Moeun decided to go first after a moment of looking both left and right. He signaled and I sprinted right out toward the other side. I never thought I could sprint so fast after more than 13 days of running from the mighty Angkar. The 50 yards dash to the other side of the road clearing was my personal best, if not a world record. It took me no time, but I felt so exposed to unnecessary danger. Sek followed next as quickly as he could a moment after Moeun’s signaled. Before he rush out, Sek made sure that Doeum got ready to go. After a very tense moment, Doeum finally staggered out as best as he could. The poor man, I honestly didn’t think that he would ever make it. He was like a drunken man heading home--not running for his life. We all quietly urged him on.
All four crossed safely and congregated, we listened for any sign of danger before slowly moving on up the steep hillside. A wild or control fire that seemed to be burning brightly on the hilltop lighted our path. We saw smoke during the daylight hour, but did not see any flame. Nighttime really highlighted the creeping—low intensity fire. We made our way upward with extreme caution and care.
Up ahead was a sheer white granite cliff that stood tall like a thirty-story wall. No one had any idea of how to tackle it. We knew that we had to get to the top of the mountain, but how? Where? We went up and then down and then around, but having difficulty climbing the sheer sandstone cliff. We climbed, we crawled through and under narrow ledge, went side way, and we swung on the vine like Tarzan the ape-man. Still no way up! Exhausted, we hung for our lives like a bunch of trapped monkeys. It was pathetic.
After several upward and then downward attempts, we found a very narrow pathway that led us diagonally to the top. We used bamboo trees, which grew near the cliff like a ladder, to make our way upward. The fire was still burning on the backbone of Dongrek Range. Occasionally the gust of wind picked up the red-hot amber and tossed them below toward us like a snow shower. Only this "red snow" was burning hot. What more can God do to punish me, I often thought repeatedly?
We reached the crest of the 5,000 thousand foot range at about midnight, more than six hours after we started our ascend. The ground was still warm, sometimes burning hot to the touch with my blistered-bare feet. We made it to the top and were completely disoriented. We again ran into a thick and thorny bamboo brush, some were burning by the fire. It was a "daja-vous" all over again. Lost, exhausted, hungry, disoriented, and extremely frustrated the three men began to argue about nothing in particular. Severe stress can do weird thing to a man’s mental state. Sek and Doeum incredibly came to a consensus to actually turn back and return to the way we came from and hope for the best. They can go "no further!" It was absolutely unbelievable especially of all that we have been through in the past few weeks. They actually and seriously think of going back to a possible death. They were completely "insane," I thought. I thought for sure that the men were going to kill each other senselessly over the issue. I had no choice but to step in quickly before thing got out of hand.
"Look here! How about we rest here for the night, brothers? Since we are lost and tired anyway, why not wait for the sunlight to reorient ourselves again?" I suggested.
The men actually stopped, listened briefly, thought about it for a little while, and then just lay down on the ground to rest. They did not utter a word to one another, which was a good thing. As soon as their back hit the solid granite ground, they fell asleep. It was absolutely amazing! They could not even argue with a reasonable suggestion, certainly not a suggestion from a skinny teenager whose companionship they neither wanted nor needed in the first place.
"Who is going to get the first watch?" I asked myself more than of the snoring men.
I was soon also fell asleep under the cool and misty night of the majestic Dongrek Range. I have never sleep so well in the past 4 years. The next morning, we ended up pulling many ticks from each other private parts. A large one, full of my precious blood, lodged on top of my right eyelid. It was the one that gave me the worst pain I have ever felt. It took Moeun several pulls before it dislodged. I tossed the monster deer tick and eight others into the fire nearby. There were nine small explosions with one large one. I felt avenged for my pains.
The incident the previous night was completely forgotten by the three men. At least no one brought it up. When the sun has risen, we knew exactly where north lay--just like I predicted the previous night. We thought that we knew where Thailand laid. Sunlight can do wonder for people. It was amazing. And as a bonus, we found four or five water holes nearby. These small holes are actually on top of the mountain, which collected and stored rainwater. We slept no more than 20 feet away from a water source and we didn’t know it. After almost a week of little to no water to drink, we drank our fill of the sweet water. I filled and plugged my two bamboo containers tight. I want to make sure our water supply will last for a while longer. I know what it is like to go without substantial water for more than four days. It is worst than anything one can imagine. I even took a mini bath, my first in weeks, after everyone got their fill of the refreshing, life giving liquid. Refreshed, restored, and somewhat renewed, we set off for Thailand and freedom, which we assumed lay somewhere on the other side of the majestic Dongrek Range.
The down hill trip was almost enjoyable, especially after we have been re-hydrated again with the mountain top water. We were still desperately hungry, but water did help immensely. After about four hours in the early morning hike, we first came in contact with various signs of foreign civilization. The first was a freshly laid nylon-roped animal trap. Angkar has no nylon rope, we reasoned excitedly. We must be in Thailand! We weren’t sure. There was nothing in the trap, to our disappointment.
We then came across a wide logging road laid just beyond the animal trap we saw earlier. Fresh tire tracks can be seen imprinted on the road, perhaps a truck or two came through here not too long ago. We followed the road that ran further north. We must be inside Thailand! Range of emotions, those that have been hidden or suppressed for weeks during our fight for survival and escape attempt, began to stir uncontrollably. Are we near our objective? We must be. It has to be Thailand. We bet our lives on it. All our lives depended on reaching the safety of Thailand and hopefully freedom.
Hope was the main ingredient that drove us forward that morning. Hope was all we have left. We have nothing more to give if we are not in Thailand. Our food was completely gone a few days ago. I could not even remember when the last time I had my last meal. We have been surviving on just little of the wild fruit and berries and nothing more. We were all weak and tired. At least one of us, Doeum, was seriously ill. Therefore, without that faint hope we would be doomed for sure--at least I would have.
"Thailand! Thailand! We are in Thailand!" Sek excitedly yelled and at the same time pointing to a sign clearly marked "Thailand" in Roman alphabet edged onto the tree.
I thought I have forgotten how to read Roman alphabet, but it was still there. My French reading ability was still there after years of hiding and suppressing the knowledge I studied in school. Angkar would not spare those with foreign language capability, especially Vietnamese and Western language. I rubbed on the letters on the tree trunk over and over again to make sure it was real. The men also rubbed on the "Thailand" marker on the tree trunk as though it was a magical gift from the heaven. We were in Thailand! But what does that mean? We weren’t sure. We may still in danger yet. No one knows what future will bring for us four miserable souls.
The men started to weep openly and dance with absolute joy and excitement like a bunch of lunatics. I wept the loudest and was not so sure what it all meant to be free at last. It was 10:22 AM on February 2, 1978, according to Doeum’s Seiko watch. We made it to Thailand at long last. We, barely alive and breathing, but we have made it.
The Khmer has never been comfortable in hugging each other, but the four of us were doing group hug. We were jumping up and down, crying and laughing at the same time. We were a bunch of nut case, looking back now to that moment which I will never forget for the rest of my day.
The feeling at that moment can not be described in words. We have made it! Were we free? I wasn’t sure. Angkar can still shoot us across the border. Better yet, Angkar soldiers may even grossly dare to violate the frontier by crossing internal border to shoot us like dogs. Angkar never play fair to begin with in the past years that I had to live under this brutal regime. They killed their own people on a good day and they would not hesitate to destroy us today--even if we have crossed the border into Thailand. That much I was sure.
I did not realize at first, but since January 1, 1978, the day after my escape from the massacre up to the moment I crossed into Thailand, I have been a free person all along. Being in Thailand, even if it was illegally, brought my long journey into light to a small closure. I was at a juncture in my life, much like being at a junction in the middle of a road, where I can decide which way to go where before only Angkar decided. My old life as a victim and as a survivor of Angkar’s Killing Fields has ended. Now, a brand new one has begun for my three companions and me. What ever happened from then on was a new chapter in our journey through life. I intend to make the most out of it.
I have finally made it to freedom, but I was alone. I was an orphan, one of many from Cambodia, at the age of fifteen. I went on to tell the world about my struggle for my life and for my liberty, as promised to the two men I met on Resin Mountain. Most importantly, my dead love ones, friends, and neighbors did not die in vein. I told the world, through various Thai and Western media and at group meetings, about their tragic death by the hand of Angkar. They all have been with me all along, in spirit, during my difficult journey into light. In that sense, I have never really been alone for a moment. They were all with me to make sure that I will make it. They are here to make sure that I will continue to tell the world of what happened to them, to Cambodia, and all her people. Their spirit are still here with me and will not rest until the day when all those who are responsible have been judged for their countless crimes against all the Khmer people, and against humanity.
 
Postscript:
We, all four of us, finally made it safely to Thailand, but it was only the begin of our long journey. I have escaped from Cambodia, my own beloved country. I left her far, far behind—not by choice, but by necessity. As Dorothy had said in the "Wizards of Oz," "there is no place like home, there is no place like home." My home was in Cambodia and so, "there is no place like Cambodia, there is no place like Cambodia, my home." My physically body may be far away from my beloved Cambodia, but my soul and spirit have always been with my Cambodia.
It would take me exactly 14 years, February 2, 1992, before I was able to return to my beloved Cambodia, my home, for the first time. Much like Dorothy in the Land of Oz, I went through life wonderful and often time frightful journey. I made the most out of my life in my own Land of Oz. Unlike Dorothy, I could never really go home again--at least not the one I remembered. Since my first journey back in 1992, I manage to return to the "old stream," much like the Pacific Steelhead does, every year to regenerate, rebuild, and heal my past emotional trauma and calm my spirit. I know that my life is a journey, not a destination. A great journey has its ups and downs. I intend to tackle life great challenges and rewards, as it may come, one day at a time. I have already seen the worst of life under Angkar reign. Comes what may could only be better, I believe.
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