Page 361 - Xuan Giap Thin 2024 FINAL 2

cry arose, and I rushed over, the child dying. His mother was too afraid to run out into

the yard, crying and crying. His father wielded incense in four directions, eight

directions. I squeezed his limbs, but the child became exhausted, hiccupped, and died.
The father, holding his child's body, screamed and cursed wildly. Curse the poor fate of

not having money to cure you. Cursing people, cursing even the gods did not accept his
plea. The comrades took the mat and bundled the boy's body, took it to the middle of the

field, and dug a grave for burial that night. The following day, I went to comfort the

couple. They sat with their heads down, crying angrily. I took the sealed watch given to
my husband and gestured to calm them.

On January 10, 1985, I suggested to the chief that I wanted to return to Battambang to
find an acquaintance to ask for money. He looked at me silently but sympathetically. The

next day, I told Huy Manh to go to the road to play; when I saw the bus running from

Siso Phon to Battambang approaching, I signaled. About 10 o'clock I saw him nod, just
as the car stopped to pick up passengers, I followed him to the car. The car runs. The

militia chief knew but ignored it. I exited. On board, passengers from all backgrounds,

Vietnamese soldiers, traffickers, and smugglers. Each time the car passes the checkpoint,
passengers must get off and walk past for the guard to identify them. Someone was called

back and detained. I put a striped Burmese bandana on my head, camouflaging and
avoiding dust. After many days of dewy land, I looked increasingly like Cambodians

working in the fields, and I did not have luggage, so it was easy to escape. arrived at

Battambang around 3 p.m. The city is desolate in the harsh sun and dust. The town was
dry, with only war and soldiers. Makeshift shops were set up to serve soldiers, live off

soldiers, and live off war. I met a young man of North Vietnamese descent, walking from

scratch. In 1975, he participated in the Battle of Xuan Loc. In 79 went to fight Pol Pot in
Cambodia. In 81, he was wounded, discharged, stayed in Battambang, married his

Vietnamese wife Lai Mien, and opened a roadside tofu stall near the Coconut Tree

Market to survive. Both husband and wife were willing to help me. He found a means
for us to return to Nam Vang. He wanted to send us army vehicles to avoid checkpoints,

but he was waiting for the elephant caravan; he didn't know when. He looked for trains.
Train riding was unchecked but prone to Khmer Rouge ambushes. There are only two

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