Window on Burma #8

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BINA  -- The Burma Independent News Agency  --  

Window on Burma  #8   
  
(From Mojo, Issue #4, July 1999)


SPDC SOLDIERS ABUSE AND MURDER PORTERS IN KAREN STATE

Sixteen local villagers and 150 political prisoners were tortured and some
murdered during a SPDC forced labor operation in Myawaddy Township, Karen
State.  A villager who escaped from the Light Infantry Unit #314?s press gang
reported the following story to ?Mojo?:

On the night of February 23rd, the LIU #314 took me and 15 others from my
village as porters, marched us to point 2450, and halted there.  The next
morning, about 150 prisoners arrived in three trucks to join us.  Our duty as
porters was to transport ammunition for the Unit?s two 120 mm cannons, as well
as rations for the soldiers.  Each porter carried two cannon shells, plus
several kilos of rations, which included rice, oil, salt, and canned
provisions.  

Due to the excessive weight of the burdens, some porters had already collapsed
by noon on the 24th.  These men were immediately beaten with bamboo sticks and
gun butts, and driven to march forward again.  At about 2 pm that
afternoon, we
watched as three of the prisoners who were preceding us were stabbed with
bayonets and died.  

Shortly after that we heard gunfire up ahead.  We put down our burdens,
thinking that the enemy had been engaged.  The soldiers cursed and beat us,
saying that the gunfire we heard was the shooting of porters who could not go
on, that they had been sent to hell, and that we would follow them if we
didn't
get up and get moving.  We passed by ten unburied corpses as we continued on,
some lying in pools of blood, their bodies twisted about in pain.

On the 25th, we were given a small bowl of rice in the morning, and began
marching again.  At noon a loud shouting arose, with sounds of people crying
and begging, then crashing sounds and gunfire.  We passed three corpses from
this fight as we went on, and I began to feel very nervous and weak.  Another
four prisoners were killed before evening came.  We halted at Thit Ka Ya Camp,
and slept together with about 130 prisoners.

On the morning of the 26th, we were ordered to carry the loads of the dead
porters in addition to our own.  As we walked, an old man from our village
halted from exhaustion, and then was beaten by the soldiers.  We begged
them to
stop, and so we had to carry his load as punishment.  A bit later we heard the

gun fired, and saw the old man fall down dead.

Later that day, five more prisoners were stabbed in the neck with bayonets or
shot to death.  By 5 pm we had finally reached Lay Waw Camp on the mountain. 
During our three days? portering journey, 22 prisoners and one villager had
been killed.  

We stayed for 13 days in Lay Waw Camp, and when we started for home on March
11th, only 11 villagers and 60 prisoners were still with us.  We spent the
first night of the return trip at Thit Ka Ya Camp, and during the following
day
two prisoners, unable to walk, were beaten to death, and another two were
shot.  We were released by the army on March 13th.

When I told people at home what had happened, they said that this was the
worst
experience of portering that anyone had ever heard.  I am so lucky to still be
alive.


?NO RETURN?

a poem by Khaing Mar Kyaw Zaw   --  reprinted from the KNU?s ?Tha Noo Htoo
Journal?

Rice in the pot grows stale
After so many days.
Leaves blowing in the wind
Send me shadowy signals.
Absent-mindedly, I cry.

They said, ?Ten days.?
So I marked a betel nut with white lime
To count each day.

That night, the moon was shining.
I could hear the dogs barking,
The soldiers? boots running here and there.
That night, they took the old man.

Day and night,
Up and down the rough trails,
Heavy load on his back,
And dysentery in his belly.
A sarong at his waist
And only a thin shawl
Covering his asthmatic chest at night.
He must be gasping for air!
With his trembling knees,
Swaying here and there,
How will he survive this bad weather?

Day after day,
Standing under the eaves,
I wait for his frightening image
To appear.

Ten days? journey of an old man.
The lime-covered betel nuts
Now nearly fill
My bamboo basket.