Our Family's Journey of Survival From a War-Torn Land to the Promise Land
Written by Bounchanh Chanthaphon
This is Part Two of a two-part series that tells the chronicle of the Chanthaphon’s Family - from their early life in Northern Laos to seeking refuge in the United States in the mid-90s.
The Laotian Civil War, spanning from 1959 to 1975, was a turbulent period in the history of Laos. It pitted the Communist Pathet Lao against the Royal Lao Government, with external powers including the Soviet Union, the United States, Vietnam, and Cambodia heavily involved. The conflict, often referred to as the “Secret War,” was a proxy war between the global Cold War superpowers, with Laos suffering devastating consequences.
This is the story of the Chanthaphon Family, retold by me, Bounchanh Chanthaphon, the eighth child of eleven children. I was born in May of 1977, the first one to be born in prisoner of war captivity. My family’s lives were forever altered by the war conflict and its aftermath.
The Early Years
Our family was led by our patriarch, our father, Yod Chanthaphon. During the onset of the Civil War, my father was a paratrooper commander, a director of the military parachuting school, and a multiple-time champion of parachuting competitions in Laos. He played a crucial role in the defense of our homeland, which at that time was governed by the Royal government.
As the conflict intensified, the United States increased its involvement, providing support to various anti-communist factions, including the Hmong and Mien tribal peoples. My father was later assigned to a neutral army that aimed to stabilize the country, often engaging in guerrilla warfare against the Pathet Lao and their North Vietnamese allies. He was shot through the chest with multiple bullets, but the bullets missed his vital organs. He was able to get an operation to remove the bullets. He fully recovered after many years.
The Secret War
During the Secret War, Laos became the most heavily bombed country per capita in world history. The United States dropped over 2.5 million tons of ordnance on Laos, primarily targeting Ho Chi Minh supply routes used by the North Vietnamese. The incessant bombings wreaked havoc on the civilian population, displacing hundreds of thousands of people and causing widespread destruction. My family experienced firsthand the horrors of war and the bombings, enduring the constant fear and uncertainty that accompanied life with young children in a war zone.
Capture and POW Camp
In 1975, as the Pathet Lao gained control of Laos and my father was captured by enemy forces. He was taken as a prisoner of war and confined to a POW camp in Xam Neua Province, Laos (in Northeastern Laos) for nearly a decade. His unwavering spirit and resilience sustained him during these difficult years. Despite the physical and emotional toll of captivity, he remained determined to survive, and a few months later my mother and my siblings were able to join him in the POW camp. While in captivity, my mother and father had three more children, including me, bringing my family to a total of thirteen family members.
Living in Captivity
In the depths of a bitterly cold winter in Xam Neua, Laos, my family found themselves caught in the clutches of a POW camp. The chilling winds pierced through our frail bodies, while the freezing temperatures seemed to seep into our very souls. It was a time of immense struggle, where survival became a daily battle against the elements and the scarcity of even basic necessities.
Our lack of proper clothing was a constant reminder of the dire circumstances we faced. Thin and tattered garments offered little protection against the biting cold. The icy air gnawed at our skin, leaving us vulnerable to frostbite and illness. We huddled together, seeking warmth and solace from each other, but it was never enough to ward off the bone-chilling cold.
Shelter was a luxury we could only dream of. The camp provided crude and isolated huts that offered minimal protection from the elements. Cracks in the bamboo-made walls allowed frigid drafts to permeate the air, turning our meager living spaces into icy chambers. We would huddle together, hugging our bodies tightly, trying to conserve any warmth we could muster. Sleep was often an elusive luxury, as the cold seeped into our bones and tormented us throughout the night.
I remember going to school for the first time at age six. My siblings and I had to put charcoal in a can saved from canned food. We poked holes in the sides of the can, added a string for a handle, and carried the cans to school with us. Without this charcoal in a can, our hands and feet would have frozen. The warmth from the can didn’t last all day, but it helped us get through our school days with a little bit of heat.
The scarcity of food exacerbated our already dire situation. Rations were meager, and hunger gnawed at our stomachs relentlessly. Our meals consisted of watery soups with little nutrients and small portions of rice, hardly enough to sustain us through the grueling days. We became gaunt and weak with skin diseases such as scabies, which cause unbearable itchiness all over us. Our bodies wasted away before our eyes. The constant hunger pains were a constant companion, a cruel reminder of our desperate circumstances.
Despite the overwhelming challenges, our family remained united. We clung to one another, finding strength in our love and resilience. We shared what little we had, rationing our meager supplies to ensure each member had something to eat. Together, we found solace in our shared experiences, offering comfort and support when it felt like hope was slipping away.
Hope did persist, even in the darkest moments. We held onto the belief that one day, our suffering would end. We dreamed of a future free from the confines of the POW. camp, where warmth, shelter, and an abundance of food would be within reach. Our spirits were buoyed by the thought of reuniting with loved ones and rebuilding our lives.
In the face of unimaginable hardship, our family's resilience and determination shone through. We clung to each other, finding strength in our shared struggles. The freezing temperatures, and lack of proper clothing, shelter, and food tested our endurance, but we refused to succumb to despair. Our spirits were strong, and we held onto the hope that one day, we would break free from the clutches of the POW camp and find a brighter future beyond its icy confines.
After almost a decade our family was let out and back to the capital city of Vientiane, Laos, where we shared a three-bedroom house with my half-sister (my father's daughter with his previous wife). Then soon after, we lived in a small village called Ban Mak Nao, in Vientiane Province, Laos, where we lived and struggled to survive. We were happy to leave the POW camp, but still struggled to meet our basic needs for more than five years.
Seeking Refuge
In 1990, with the situation in Laos still uncertain with no opportunity in sight, my father had to work to clear land, turning thick wooded land into farmland. This task required tremendous labor from dawn to dusk. His pay was not enough money to feed us children. My father had to farm someone else’s land and get half of the harvested crops along with fishing and trapping and find whatever food was available in the jungle to feed our family.
Finally, our family made the difficult decision to leave our homeland. We crossed the mighty Mekong River by fishing boat, and we sought refuge in a refugee camp in Nongsaeng, Nakhon Phanom, Thailand, then 6 months later in Phanat Nikhom, Chon Buri, Thailand, where we endured challenging living conditions while we awaited resettlement opportunities. In September 1991, our family's prayers were answered when we were granted asylum to the United States.
A New Beginning
Arriving in a rough neighborhood of Des Moines, Iowa, United States, our family faced the daunting task of starting anew. We encountered numerous challenges, including language barriers and cultural adjustments. Nevertheless, we persevered, drawing strength from their shared experiences and the hope for a better future. The older siblings were able to find work in meat-producing factories and the younger siblings went to school. Gradually we rebuilt our lives, embracing the opportunities that America offered.
Living Throughout the US and Laos
Our dad, Yod Chanthaphon passed on March 19, 2012. Today we are living across five states. Bounthanh (Mom), Koumphonh, Phomhom, Koumpha (Ipha), Bounchanh (Chan) and Artna (Anna) live in Iowa, Taeng-Orn (Belle) lives in Wisconsin, Khamphay in Virginia, Sisavart (King) is in Maryland, and Phonpaseut (Pon) is in Hawaii. One of our sisters, Taikham, never came with the rest of the family and is still living in Ban Nabong, Laos.
Final Words
Our family's story is a testament to the resilience and determination of those affected by a war-torn country. We endured the horrors of war, separation, and captivity, only to find hope and a fresh start in a foreign land we now call home. Our journey serves as a poignant reminder of the human cost of conflict and the indomitable spirit that can emerge from even the darkest of times.
Part One can be found here:
From a POW Camp in Northern Laos to a New Life in Iowa
Welcome to a two-part series. Part One is the story of a Laotian refugee’s struggle to survive retold by me. Part Two is the original story told by Bounchanh Chanthaphon, himself. When Bounchanh Chanthaphon, known as “Chan,” to family and friends, was a young boy, he lived in a bamboo hut on stilts in a remote area in Northern Laos. Chan is the eighth ch…
Thanks, Jane. These stories are powerful.
Thanks for sharing this story. It took great courage for this family to leave Laos and start anew in a strange land. I hope they never regretted that decision.