Surviving The Khmer Rouge Genocide

By Kc Ung

At a mere 15 years old, KC Ung's life was turning upside down overnight. In 1975, the Cambodian civil war that had been raging for years was now over, with the Khmer Rouge having seized victories one province at a time. What could have been a new era of peace was instead the beginning of the largest genocide in Asian history, claiming the lives of a quarter of the total Cambodian population. Families across the country were now thrown into a fight for survival, a fight that an unfortunate many people were not able to win. Execution, starvation, and disease plagued the population, but along with the atrocities was a strong sense of hope, resilience, and strength of spirit from those who continued to push forward to see another day.

Through SURVIVING THE KHMER ROUGE GENOCIDE, KC Ung details her harrowing journey through communist controlled Cambodia. The stories demonstrate both the absolute losses felt by the Cambodian people, as well as their unbreakable spirits. Follow her through these memories and experience the horror, and the hope, of surviving the Khmer Rouge genocide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arts In All
• Release date: Dec 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798989475001

Book preview

1

The Beginning of 1975

Bang, bang, bang, boom ... 

These were the sounds of bullets and bombs dropped somewhere in the district of Mongkol Borei. These were the sounds that had awoken all of us in the middle of the night. We were overcome with terror, worrying whether these sounds were coming from the other side of town or right across the street. I prayed for this unrelenting barrage to end.

Mongkol Borei is a district in the province of Banteay Meanchey in southwestern Cambodia. It's approximately 358 kilometers, 5 hours drive to Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. The population of Mongkol Borei occupied a residency of approximately forty-five thousand people in 1975.

In the ‘70s, I was a young teenager occupying one of those forty-five thousand spots. Like many other kids, all I knew was getting up early in the morning, going to school, and doing chores in and out of the house. I didn’t care much about who ran the country if it didn’t affect how I lived my day-to-day life.

During this time, Prince Norodom Shihanou was the leader of the country. When I was twelve, I was one of the students chosen by my sixth-grade teacher to welcome the prince when he visited our college in town. I didn’t care about who the prince was or his political agenda, but I was excited to be one of the few children selected for this opportunity.

I was too young to understand or even care about politics, but I do remember that it was March 18th, 1970, when Prince Norodom Sihanouk was deposed by Lon Nol and his coup. The prince eventually relinquished his power in 1972.

Lon Nol declared martial law, dissolved the National Assembly, and suspended the Constitution when he took power. He proclaimed that these actions were necessary to keep the country in order and prevent a Communist takeover of the nation

While he was the president of the country, Lon Nol attempted to suppress the Khmer Rouge (Khmer Krohom, in Cambodia). As a result, he plunged the country into a civil war. The war between Lon Nol and the Khmer Rouge had been going on for several years. Communist Khmer Rouge had taken control of one province at a time. Eventually, the Khmer Rouge retained firm control of the Northeast provinces, which included Mongkol Borey, and most of the countryside. More and more territory fell into Communist hands over the next few years

We could often hear battles going on day and night between Lon Nol’s troops and the Khmer Rouge. Bombs would explode during the busiest time of the day in Phnom Penh, injuring and killing masses of people at a time. News about the war was constantly updated on television and the radio. At that time, only a select few wealthier families could afford a television. The rest would be listening to radios.

We heard on the radio that the Khmer Rouge were sneaking into towns in the middle of the night. They would kidnap residents, force them into the woods outside of town, and train them to become one of their soldiers. If one refused to abide by their demands, he or she would be executed on the spot.

All the news that had been circulating and happening filled our hearts with sorrow and distress. The pure unfiltered horror was being seen with our very eyes. This couldn’t even be compared to a nightmare. We went to sleep with the fear that in a heartbeat, all of us could have died. There was no telling who or where would be targeted next. Everyone was forced to gamble with their own lives. At any moment, our neighboring village could have been bombed and we would be in pure panic. We had to be ready every second of every day, so we slept with a backpack next to us that carried some food and water just in case we had to flee in the middle of the night.

Just like many other towns, the sound of gunshots can be heard every day in Mongkol Borey. The sound of guns got closer and closer as the days went by. The sound of bombs began to echo in our heads. A couple of nights every week, the gunshots that seemed only a village away or a couple of miles away began inching their way closer and closer. Our bodies became paralyzed with the mere idea of being caught. We would get together with others and sneak away to hide in a rice field about a mile away as a safety precaution, then return home the next morning.

One day, in the beginning of 1975, children began disappearing from school. Parents were petrified of sending their children off for fear that they would never see them again. They could be kidnapped or killed for all they knew. Nobody did any kind of business or work anymore. Every night was a sleepless night. Parents would get together daily to discuss any possibility of safety. What was the village supposed to do if the Khmer Rouge invaded our town? What would happen if stray bullets entered our neighborhood? There were endless concerns.

There was so much desperation for safety that every family built a mound in their house to stay safe. That was the best solution everyone had at the time. It was like a bulletproof room, and it was there just for safety. In one of the rooms on the first floor of my home, bags of sand were placed perpendicular to the walls with numerous layers to prevent any gunshots from getting in. There were mass amounts of bottled water and some dried food just in case we needed to hide and survive, for at minimum, a few days.

The fear that the Khmer Rouge would take control of our town and kill the innocent had made people in Mongkol Borei decide to make the next move for their safety. As a result, people who had friends or families in the bigger city had moved to the bigger cities. People without friends or families in the bigger cities tried anything to get there. It was the safest place to be at the time and it gave hope to people. They believed that a bigger city besides Phnom Penh was a safer place for their families because the Khmer Rouge would not dare to sneak in the middle of the night or attack any major cities. Some families moved to the border of Thailand because if things got out of hand, they could make a quick escape to Thailand. My parents were one of those who had planned to move to the border as well.

In just a couple of weeks, Mongkol Borei became a ghost town. More than half of the population in the town had moved somewhere else. Some families would have one or two members that would stay behind to protect their belongings. Some were left not behind. After a long search for a location for our family, my dad finally found a place for my mom, sisters, and brothers in Ou Chrov, a small town on the border of Thailand. The people who had lived there seemed either uninterested or unconcerned about the activity of the Khmer Rouge and they were leading normal lives.

It was a medium-sized wooden house in the countryside that fit just enough for our family. My father bought it with some of his savings. Even though there were not many people left in town, my father did not want to abandon the home and the business that he had worked hard for. He wanted to stay behind to keep an eye on his property. He wanted to have at least one of his children stay with him. Unfortunately for me, my father and I, along with one of my younger brothers, stayed behind at our home in Mongkol Borei while mom and the rest of my seven siblings lived and left for safety. My dad told us that we had to wait for Mom to settle into the new home first before we could all move in together.

We waited for my mom and older brother to settle in and start a small business, so we at least had somewhat of an income. Hopefully, my mother would settle down quickly enough for us to leave. We weren't lucky enough and my mother had not settled down before the railroad from Mongkol Borei to Ou Chrov was destroyed by the Khmer Rouge. We could not believe what happened. No one was allowed to travel between Ou Chrov and Mongkol Borei until the government felt that it was safe to reopen and repair. We were now stuck in Mongkol Borei, and it was up to fate to decide when it was time for us to be reunited.

Every night before I went to sleep, I would pray that the roads would reopen. I could only hope that one day we would be reunited. As the days continued, the roads were still closed because there was still a fear of bombing or an ambush appearing out of nowhere. At first, my closest friend moved to the city with her family. Soon after that, everyone started leaving daily, and people slowly crept out of the town. Mongkol Borey became a ghost town with no one there except us and a few other families without anywhere else to go.

Then one morning, a friend of my parents came to our home. She told my father about the news that she just heard. The Khmer Rouge would invade Mongkol Borei in the next few days and she did not want to take any chances. She would take the remaining members of her family to Battambang on that same day. Battambang is a city Southwest of Phnom Penh, about 293 km, a five-hour drive. My father asked her to take me and my younger brother along to one of his old friends who also lived in Battambang. He felt that my brother and I would be much safer with them than where we were now without even asking for my opinion. She agreed and my father wrote a letter for me to give to his friend when I got there.

I lived with a stranger far away from home and far away from my family. The people I stayed with were very nice. They did the same things my parents did, but it still felt as if they were a completely different race. I felt as if I was alienated from what I was and what I did. They were good friends of my father, but to me, they were some random people who decided to take me in because they pitied me. No matter how friendly they were, I just could not feel comfortable. Even though I did not like where I was, I was always afraid that one day they would just kick me out, and then I would be completely alone without my parents or anyone.

A few days later, my father came to visit me. All my hopes had resurfaced, and I finally felt happy again. My eyes lit up and I had a smile that stretched so far and for so long when he came. I wanted him to stay with me or take me back to our home. I told him that I didn't feel comfortable here. My father told me that I would be safer here and that he needed to go back, and he would take my younger brother back with him, and for me, I must stay. He needed to know as soon as possible when the road from Ou Chrov to Mongkol Borei opened so that we could join my mother and brothers. Then we could all go home and be a family again. I had no choice, so I was forced into agreeing with him due to the dangerous situation around us.

My parent’s friends were very generous to me. I was often very worried and just sat thinking. When I did, they would attempt to have me do an activity, but I was just unable to. I kept thinking about what was going on what was going to happen to me and my family and if I was ever going to see them again.

As a few more days passed by, they told me that they heard on the radio that the road between Battambang and Mongkol Borei was bombed. The road was destroyed and was not drivable. No more cars were allowed to travel on the side of the road because the Khmer Rouge was attempting to ambush the people. My lungs suddenly started to fail me, and my mouth was gasping for air. So many thoughts raced through my mind and everything around me slowly started to turn black.

After what seemed like hours, I slowly regained consciousness. My vision returned and I started looking at everything around me; wondering what had recently happened. I suddenly remembered everything, and I started to cry. I wailed and my eyes eventually burned from crying so much. My hosts began getting very upset with me and told me it was useless to cry and that the only thing I could do was sit and pray. They said that if I prayed, everything would work out just right. Every day after that, I prayed and listened to the radio all day long hoping that it would give me an ounce of hope or anything to hold on to.

Time passes by and I still pray and listen to the radio. Falling asleep every night to the radio did no good for me at all. The radio brought nothing except emptiness to my heart and I could not stand it. It has been almost a month and still nothing good at all. All I heard was how more places were getting bombed and more provinces were taken over by the Khmer Rouge and I started to worry more. I felt so useless and alone that I gave up doing everything around the house. I lost my appetite and just sat around all day listening to the radio. My hosts would talk to me every day for either not doing anything or for support. Lying on the couch all day was the only thing I could do. Every day I had such a good feeling that something was going to change, but it never did. By then, I missed my parents and my family. All I could think of was what life was like before all of this happened, and I just wanted to go home.

2

Seeing Khmer Rouge for The First Time – The Worst Just Started

ONE EARLY MORNING AROUND 3 am, I awoke to the noise of pots and pans and loud cheering. I heard people screaming with joy and everything sounded so...good. I got up quickly and ran to my window to see what was happening. All I saw was a crowd of people all dressed in black with long guns behind their backs. They had colorful scarves around their neck and some of them wrapped the scarves around their heads. There were miles of them parading on the street. Some were walking on the street; some were riding in army tanks and army trucks. They all kept repeating.

Jeiyo Brotest Kampuchea, Barajew Lon Nol in Cambodian, (Victory Cambodia, Defeat Lon Nol). My hosts ran into my room and told me that they were the Khmer Rouge. They had just taken over Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, and controlled the country.

That was