p The Wheel of History, Angka Loeu’s missionaries habitually warned, would grind down anyone who disobeyed or flagged—-

p . . .There were strictures against all things foreign, against music and dance, against sex, against traditional family relationships. And children were singled out for the most intensive brainwashing. In the village of Khna Sar, university student 96 Ung Sok Choeu observed: “The only subject being taught were revolutionary thinking and the aims of the Khmer Rouge struggle, and how to detect the enemies of both. As a result, all the children turned into little spies, reporting everything that was said at home.”

p In Ampil Pram Daum, the children’s reports led to numerous Kosangs. Some children derived a heady sense of power from the knowledge that they could place the’ life of any elder in jeopardy.

p . . .During the first six to eight weeks after evacuation of the cities, Angka Loeu generally succeeded in distributing a ration of about nine ounces of rice daily to each person. But by midsummer many villagers were receiving only half a milk can of rice, insufficient to sustain life. Epidemics of malaria, cholera and typhoid spread. Approximately 1,000 people inhabited the New Village of Ta Orang; about 200 died in June. Sambok Ork contained 540 people when organized in late April; in July and August, two to five died daily, according to philosophy professor Phal Oudam, who was drafted to file ibiweekly reports of deaths to Angka Loeu. Out of roughly 800 inhabitants in Phum Svay Sar, about 150 died in the summer.

p By September, of the original 215 in Ngy’s group, about 15 per cent had died and only ten were strong enough to do their rjobs. Ten men had been executed. Three were former soldiers who upon arrival had naively told Comrade Mon the truth about their past. One morning, a communist squad appeared in the field and escorted them into the forest, where Ngy later saw their bullet-punctured bodies. Children spies overheard two police inspectors discussing their former work. Both men were clubbed to death with hoes.

p On September 14, the village committee ordered Ngy to patrol the area in the evening after the workday ended. He pleaded that he was so weak he could barely work during the day. A few hours later, Angka Loeu gave him his second Kosang. Comrade Mon shouted, “Stop going against the Wheel of History. Stop refusing orders given by Angka Loeu. There is no reason why you cannot do night duty.”

Before Ngy’s work group departed for the fields the next 97 morning, a committee member casually mentioned that soldiers would accompany them. Ngy instantly knew what their presence meant. He sneaked back to his hut, put some valuables in his money belt and slipped his flute into his trousers. Then, kneeling before his mother and putting her feet on his head for the traditional Khmer benediction, he stole into the forest. . . .