First They Killed My Father_ A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers - Loung Ung [67]
“Chou, don’t let them beat you up! Don’t let them think they can get away with it,” I tell her.
“But they can beat me and get away with it. I cannot win against them.”
“So what? I can take any one of them, but if they gang up on me, they can beat me. I don’t let them know that. I don’t care if I win, but I will draw blood. I will get in my punches.
“Chou, I dream of the day when we have power again. I will come back for them. I will get them back and beat them until I am tired. I won’t forget, not ever.”
“Why would you want to remember? I dream of the day when things are nice again, and I can leave all this behind.”
Chou does not understand. I need the new memories that make me angry to replace the old ones that make me sad. My rage makes me want to live just to come back and take my revenge. At the pond, the girls run into the water still fully dressed, splashing and laughing at each other’s attempt to swim. While Chou scrubs the grime off her clothes, I float face up in the water. Thinking of Keav, I allow myself to sink as the water laps over my cheeks, eyes, and nose. Rising above the surface again, I feel the weeks’ mud dissolve and slide off my skin, my nails, the creases in my neck and toes. The water washes away the dirt, but it will never put out the fire of hate I have for the Khmer Rouge.
child soldiers
August 1977
The months pass and the government continues to increase our food ration, allowing me to grow a little stronger. It has been three months since we left Ro Leap and last saw Kim, Ma, and Geak. I think about them every day and wonder how they are. At night when all the other children are fast asleep, Chou and I whisper to each other about Ma and Geak. I hope that Meng, Khouy, and Kim are able to visit Ma and make sure she is well. My heart lifts a little knowing that Ma has Geak to keep her from being too lonely.
The other children have stopped picking on me because I am a fighter. While I have also improved my reputation as a worker, because she is weak, Chou has been taken out of the garden and demoted to a cook. She actually likes it better because she no longer has to associate with the other children.
But since I am strong, it was only after three months of being at the camp when Met Bong told me she had some “good news.”
“You are the youngest girl here, but you work harder than everyone else. The Angkar needs people like you,” she says and smiles. “It’s really too bad you are not a boy,” she adds. When she sees that I am not jumping with joy at the news, her face scowls. “Your number one duty is to the Angkar and no one else. You should be happy with yourself. This camp is for the weaklings. The camp you are going to is for the bigger, stronger children. There you will be trained as a soldier so you can soon help fight the war. You will learn many more things there than the children here.” Her face beams with pride when she finishes.
“Yes, Met Bong, I am happy to go,” I lie. I don’t understand Met Bong’s elation. I do not want to sacrifice for the country that killed my pa.
At the break of dawn, I pack my clothes and my food bowl. Chou stands beside me with her head down. I do not want to leave Chou behind, but I cannot refuse the reassignment. Hooking our elbows together, we walk to the gate to meet Met Bong.
“Chou, you’re older than me, stop being so weak,” I whisper as we hug, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. “We will always be sisters even though you were found in a trashcan.” Chou cries harder, her tears wetting my hair. Met Bong breaks our bond and tells me it’s time to go. Chou refuses to let go of my hand. With all my strength, I pull it from her grasp and run away. Though my heart aches, I do not look back.
Met Bong leads me to another camp an hour’s walk away. I do not know what to expect of the new camp, but when Met Bong says it is a child soldier training camp, I presume it will be a big place with many weapons and soldiers living