The brutal Vietnam War

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

That was in the late 1960s. I had just graduated from Harvard Journalism and entered the newspaper industry. I was a young man in my early twenties, full of both anticipation and confusion about the uncertain future, and filled with both expectation and fear for the challenges to come, just like most young Americans entering society at the time. Perhaps people were bewildered by the rapid pace of social development, or perhaps this unprecedented speed made some people feel anxious and empty. Unbeknownst to many, a SM craze was quietly emerging in American universities. Articles about sadomasochism and sexual fantasies were increasing in newspapers, and many girls were keen to try them with their boyfriends. Even the famous CIA training camps included resistance to enemy sexual abuse in their formal training curriculum. The

monotonous and mechanical life quickly bored me. My desire for a new life led me to give up this lucrative position and choose a new profession that seemed mysterious to me—the military. After all, military service was an obligation that young Americans had to fulfill, so I naturally became a member of the U.S. Army. I had long heard that Vietnamese women's prisons were mysterious places, and the news media often vividly described the torture of female prisoners by Vietnamese police. However, when I interviewed the authors of those articles, most of them admitted that the content was not based on firsthand experience. A strong curiosity and a single man's sexual fantasies about women led me to secure a spot as a military reporter and travel with the troops on rotation to that mysterious land.

At the time, the area was in turmoil. General Nguyen Van Thieu's forces had just overthrown General Ngo Thanh Diem's regime, and even Saigon was in chaos, with virtually no social order. The army had practically taken over everything and was even more corrupt than the old regime; money could buy everything. Taking advantage of this opportunity, through a powerful Vietnamese friend my father had made through long-term business dealings there, I used an alias and a false identity. After much difficulty, I finally obtained permission from the authorities to enter Chi Hoa Prison, which at the time held the most female prisoners, and witnessed firsthand how Vietnamese police tortured female political prisoners.

Due to historical reasons, Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City) alone had three prisons, one of which housed exclusively female prisoners. The prison was originally built during the French colonial period, initially holding about a hundred prisoners. It expanded rapidly during the Japanese occupation, at its peak holding over two thousand prisoners. According to the roster provided by the warden, there were 973 female prisoners at that time. The oldest was 57 years old, and the youngest was only 14. The vast majority were female guerrillas and members of underground resistance organizations, whom they called Viet Cong members, with a small number being the families of former regime officials.

Thanks to the careful arrangements of my Vietnamese friend, I observed three interrogations on the condition that I not publish what I saw. For a long time afterward, I kept my promise. Now, many years have passed, that beautiful country is no longer our ally, and my Vietnamese friend has passed away. Therefore, I am now sharing the truth I witnessed to warn all kind-hearted people on this planet what dictatorship and military oligarchs truly bring, and to offer my own repentance for the women who died under the torture of their own compatriots.

The first female prisoner I met during their interrogation was named Nguyen Thi Van. This was a Vietnamese woman who looked to be in her early thirties, dressed in typical Vietnamese housewife attire. According to the records, she was forty-one years old at the time. She was operating a small grocery store at the Bien Hoa Air Force Base, which was actually a secret communication station for the Viet Cong underground organization. When the Vietnamese police arrested her there, they also found a radio used for transmitting messages and some weapons and ammunition in her store, thus making her a key target for investigation. Colonel Li, who presided over the interrogation, was a violent man. After watching his interrogation, I began to believe that the rumors of the Vietnamese secret police's brutality towards women were not unfounded. I

don't know if Colonel Li had some personal troubles that day, or if this was his usual practice when interrogating female prisoners, but in any case, he questioned Nguyen Thi Van for less than five minutes before taking her to the interrogation room. There were no legal procedures familiar to the Western world, no lawyers, only a few strong Vietnamese policemen. They first silently watched their prey, and then, without saying a word, tore off her three-piece suit. This was a type of clothing most commonly worn by women in that subtropical country—collarless, sleeveless, and tight-fitting. Due to poverty, aside from a very few upper-class women who wore bras, the vast majority of women wore nothing underneath.

She struggled, her face flushed, cursing in a language I couldn't understand, desperately trying to cover her exposed breasts with her hands. Two Vietnamese policemen, expressionless, strapped her to a cross-shaped wooden frame and then tightly bound her wrists with ropes. One of the policemen pulled her clothes up as far as possible, completely exposing the outline of her breasts. This was the first time I had seen a woman's naked upper body. Compared to Western women, her breasts weren't very large; perhaps due to breastfeeding, they weren't very full, but her skin was smooth, even delicate. "Speak! Who is your contact?" Colonel Li first grabbed and rubbed her nipples, then twisted them violently. Nguyen Thi Van kept her eyes tightly closed, neither shouting nor groaning, only occasionally furrowing her brow. "You won't talk? I'll make you talk!" He waved his hand, and three shirtless men surrounded her, unbuckling their belts. Wearing only military shorts, they took turns whipping her breasts with their belts. *Crack—crack—crack—crack—* With this rhythmic sound, reddish-purple stripes appeared on her fair breasts.

Vietnamese women were among the most resilient I had ever seen; their endurance in suffering was unparalleled. Throughout the nearly twenty minutes of whipping, she remained silent, even though I noticed that each time the belt struck her breast, the veins on both sides of her neck bulged, and the flesh on her chest and ribs convulsed in pain. Perhaps deep within people's hearts, besides kindness and compassion, there is also something sinful. Perhaps this is why God sent Jesus to earth. The visual stimulation made me feel as if a fire was raging within me, and violence gradually consumed my conscience. A shameful pleasure made me not want the torture to end immediately, even though reason told me that such torture was utterly inhumane. Colonel Li must have seen through my naive and inexperienced thoughts. He ordered the three thugs, who were engrossed in the whipping, to temporarily stop and pulled me by the hand to Nguyen Thi Van, who was being tortured.

This was the first time I had ever seen a woman's breasts so closely, especially the breasts of a foreign woman from a country steeped in Eastern civilization and shrouded in mystery. It was clear that Nguyen Thi Van must have been a very beautiful woman in her youth, and although she was middle-aged, she still retained her charm, only that the passage of time had caused them to lose their former firmness. Colonel Li scooped a ladle of water from the bucket and splashed it on her chest, making her body shudder. Then he lifted her chin, forcing her to raise her head, which had been hanging down.

"Old bitch, it seems your tits are still quite hard. No problem, I have plenty of ways to soften them!" She glared at us defiantly, her eyes filled with hatred, a look that remains vividly in my memory to this day.

A burly man retrieved bamboo skewers from the bamboo tub on the interrogation table and distributed them to the other thugs. Nguyen Thi Van's body began to tremble; clearly, she knew their purpose. Vietnam is a subtropical country abundant in bamboo, which has various uses there, even being used to construct most of their homes. It was unexpected that bamboo would have this function, becoming a torture device used by Vietnamese police to subdue female prisoners.

The three burly men took turns using bamboo skewers to cut along her ribs, then rubbed salt on them. Nguyen Thi Van, who had been silent until now, suddenly gritted her teeth in pain, occasionally letting out a suppressed scream.

"How does this castration taste? Still not confessing, you old bitch?" "No!" she spat out through clenched teeth.

"Give her a change of pace!" The thugs pinched Nguyen Thi Van's breasts, viciously stabbing her erect nipples with sharp bamboo skewers. Those thugs must have frequently subjected female prisoners to this kind of torture. They skillfully pierced the indentation between the erect nipples little by little with bamboo sticks, shaking them from side to side as they did so, like drilling holes. The naked woman bound to the rack began to twist as the bamboo sticks went deeper, which then turned into violent shaking. Her body was wet, and it was impossible to tell whether it was sweat or water. Her wide-open lips trembled as she let out one scream after another.

"Bring the other two girls here, let them see first, save me the trouble of talking to them later!" Colonel Li ordered. This was our pre-arranged plan; we would be watching three female prisoners being interrogated tonight. A few minutes later, the other two female prisoners were brought in. One was named Phan Van Can, a twenty-one-year-old girl. According to her arrest file, she was a guerrilla intelligence agent, publicly identified as a nurse at a church hospital in Saigon. The other was named Le Thi Hue, a seventeen-year-old girl still in high school. She was a legendary member of the Viet Cong's assassination squad, said to have killed two officials of the Vietnamese local government, but her slender figure and beautiful face didn't suggest she could do such a thing.

"You two watch out. If you don't confess honestly, we'll use this on you too, especially you, little beauty. Your little buds haven't swelled up yet, have they? Want to taste the feeling of picking bamboo shoots with bamboo skewers? These gentlemen are getting impatient!" Colonel Li said maliciously to the girl named Le Thi Hue. Two young girls huddled together in a corner, trembling. Clearly, like me, they hadn't expected this scene. Colonel Li seemed unfazed, not stopping his men's performance, but instead leisurely taking a cigarette from his pack and smoking it. Bamboo skewered

pierced both her nipples, and the thugs began repeating the act on her dark brown areolas—one, two, three—several bamboo skewers were inserted into Nguyen Thi Van's nipples and areolas. The thugs would occasionally tap the exposed parts with the remaining skewer. She began to scream intermittently, quickly turning into continuous screams of agony, until her piercing screams were replaced by hoarse howls. Nguyen Thi Van's head snapped back, her body arched forward with all her might, her hands loosened, fingers taut, heels raised, toes pointed, like a ballet dancer. Even her already relaxed calves showed clearly bulging muscles, as if this could alleviate the pain in her two dark red breasts. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled down her chin onto the peaks of her chest, seeping into the crisscrossing wounds, mixing with faint traces of blood as they slid down onto her raised feet. Her slightly purplish toes were soaked in the small puddles that had formed. This continued for more than half an hour before the cruel torture finally stopped.

"These old women are the hardest to deal with. Maybe we'll need to spend a little more time. Anyway, the night is still long," Colonel Li said, feigning ease, though his expression no longer held the confidence he had shown at the beginning. He slipped his hand inside Nguyen Thi Van's waistband. Vietnamese women typically don't wear belts; their waistbands are just elastic bands. Because of the climate, they often walk barefoot and don't wear stockings like European and American women. Besides, Nguyen Thi Van's body was still firmly restrained, so Colonel Li easily reached into her crotch.

"These old bitches are the hardest to deal with, but I have plenty of ways to handle them. If you're interested, I'll demonstrate them to you one by one, but you can't report it." Colonel Li's ultimate target was obvious. Soon, Nguyen Thi Van's breathing became heavy, and two blushes slowly rose on her cheeks, clearly indicating that his fingers had penetrated the poor woman's most sensitive area. The other two thugs dropped their bamboo skewers, grinning maliciously as they kneaded Nguyen Thi Van's recently whipped, red and white breasts until the bamboo skewers were slowly squeezed out of her nipples. Thus, this kind of humiliation, which under normal circumstances would only bring shame to women, was no less powerful than any extremely vicious form of torture at this moment.

"This method is very effective, especially for those stubborn Viet Cong women. Oh, she's already a little wet down there." He pulled his fingers, covered in her vaginal fluid, from his crotch and flaunted them in front of me.

"Nguyen Thi Van, will you confess or not?"

"No!" Still that one short word.

"Fine! Let's see how long you can keep it up!" Colonel Li personally ripped off Nguyen Thi Van's pants and tore the only piece of cloth covering her to shreds. In the blink of an eye, Nguyen Thi Van was completely naked. This was a form of torture I had never heard of before. The wounds on her breasts, which had been touched, made her wince in pain. Large beads of sweat dripped from her pale face, while the stimulation of her lower body made her unable to restrain her lust. Her glistening, cloudy white vaginal fluid flowed down Colonel Li's fingers. The pale breasts, now covered in purple ridges, seemed much fuller than before. The erect nipples, no longer drooping, were sharply upturned, like a young girl's, and the dark brown areolas had a tender, dark red tinge.

"Come on, do it to her vagina and anus too, so these two female spectators won't have any more hope!" Colonel Li ordered. In that instant, I seemed to understand his intention in having the other two female prisoners watch the torture. Three thugs surrounded her again, each targeting a sensitive area and beginning a new round of bamboo skewer torture. The two dark red nipples cried out again under the brutality, and the two plump labia majora were covered in dark purple bruises from the bamboo skewers. The skin around her anus was blue and purple from the bruising. The chilling screams broke the brief silence of the torture chamber once more. This stalemate continued for about half an hour, until Nguyen Thi Van fainted, still without a single confession.

"Prison doctor! Prison doctor! Go get that idiot and wake her up! Wake her up! I'll make this old bitch regret ever being a woman!" Colonel Li roared furiously until a man in a white coat injected a vial of medicine into Nguyen Thi Van's body.

"I didn't say—I didn't say—don't come any closer—don't—run—run—run—" After a while, Nguyen Thi Van, half-conscious, kept muttering. Several buckets of cold water were poured over her, and her bare back began to writhe. She struggled to lift her wet head, glanced at Colonel Li, whose face was bluish-purple, and then slumped down again. Only her heavy breathing and the rise and fall of her back proved that she was still alive.

"Will this woman die?" Colonel Li asked the prison doctor.

"She's very weak, but not in mortal danger."

"Give her another injection. I want her to regain normal consciousness." Another injection was given, and soon Nguyen Thi Van's condition improved significantly.

"What kind of medicine are you using? It's so miraculous," I asked Colonel Li. He smiled slyly and didn't answer immediately. Later, I learned that they were using a sexual aphrodisiac. The bamboo skewers on her nipples, areolas, mons pubis, and anus were removed. They poured ice water over Nguyen Thi Van again, then applied a beige cream to her female genitalia. I had seen this stuff in China; it was a mixture of Indian herbal oil and hormones, supposedly used to induce sexual hallucinations and usually only for middle-aged and elderly men and women who had lost their sexual ability, and of course, for some impotent patients. I never expected him to use it to torture a female prisoner.

"Knock her!" The gloom on Colonel Li's face seemed to dissipate somewhat. Rumors had long circulated that sexual assault of female prisoners was commonplace in Vietnamese prisons, and the police involved would not be charged. This was especially true in a military-controlled prison specifically for political prisoners, where sexual assault was even used to coerce confessions. But witnessing it firsthand was a first, especially since it had just been subjected to bamboo skewer torture! Perhaps the fading beauty of Nguyen Thi Van had lost their appeal; the thugs lazily pulled down their trousers, forcing her to kneel on the floor, and then forcibly penetrated her from behind in front of me.

However, they quickly withdrew, handcuffing her wrists from the front, and pulling a chain down from a pulley hanging from the rafters, its hook at the end securing the chain. Nguyen Thi Van's body was straightened as the chain rose, until she could only touch the ground with her toes. Colonel Li seemed to favor this position, a rare smile appearing on his face. The thugs skillfully fastened a metal bra to her breasts, then inserted a metal rod resembling a human penis into her anus. Two young female prisoners stared wide-eyed at this, their eyes filled with extreme terror.

Was this the legendary electrocution? Why was it used on those parts instead of the female prisoners' limbs? What would it be like for the female prisoners during this? Could they endure it? As the thugs expertly installed the connectors, my questions were quickly answered. Colonel Li elegantly switched off the power, and a machine composed of red, orange, yellow, and green indicator lights hummed. This was also the first time I had witnessed the use of electrocution, a product of modern technology, on a female prisoner. As time passed, Nguyen Thi Van's pale face regained its color, and her angry eyes became confused.

"Feels good, Nguyen Thi Van? Your old cunt's been secreting lubrication again. It's been a long time since you've enjoyed being fucked like this." Colonel Li moved closer to his prey and then inserted his fingers deep inside. The thugs stopped the electric shocks and removed the metal bra. I was surprised to find that my breasts, which had been slightly drooping, were now proudly erect like those of young girls. Even the nipples, which had just been tortured, were pink and pointed upwards, not at all like those of someone who had given birth and breastfed. Nguyen Thi Van was panting heavily, her body limp. If she weren't bound by ropes, she would have collapsed onto the floor.

"This bitch's in heat, brothers. Give it a push and we can get what we need out of her mouth. Maybe we can even catch a lady more charming than those two spectators. Then I'll let you torture them to your heart's content until they kneel down and beg you to spare them, okay?" The thugs cheered in unison, and I couldn't help but join in. A stun gun was inserted into her vagina, the current adjusted to the same frequency as during intercourse, and the torture resumed. The other thugs forcibly separated the two beautiful female prisoners and handcuffed their hands behind their heads. Colonel Li tossed away the remaining cigarette butt and walked step by step to Phan Van Kin, suddenly lifting her clothes and gesturing for me to go to the beautiful girl named Le Thi Hue. I was stunned, at a loss for words.

"This is a gift for you, foreigner. You can use her as you please now. After you've finished torturing her, this little chick won't be so delicate anymore." I hesitated for a moment, then walked over, trembling as I lifted Le Thi Hue's shirt. I was surprised to find she was wearing a lace bra that couldn't be bought with Vietnamese dong. She struggled desperately, looking at me with terrified eyes, speaking Vietnamese that I couldn't fully understand at the time. I knew she was cursing me, or perhaps begging me. Looking back, my actions were no different from those of a robber, but at the time, I was completely captivated by her beauty.

Brother, you probably haven't tasted the flavors of Vietnamese women yet, have you? These two are top-notch, and you don't even have to pay! It's a rare opportunity, what are you waiting for! My thoughts swayed between morality and desire, but my fingers unconsciously lifted her bra. Her fragrant skin was suddenly revealed, radiating sweet scents. I couldn't resist any longer, and I tore off the lace that carried her body heat and fleshy fragrance. Her glistening breasts were revealed. Her white jade-like skin shone brightly, and the smooth touch was like stroking brocade. Her breasts weren't very large, still the delicate breasts of a young girl, but they appeared particularly upright with the beautiful curves forming an alluring cleavage and her slender waist. The pink nipples stood proudly, particularly eye-catching against the backdrop of snow-white spring colors. A youthful throbbing sensation came from my fingers, and that wonderful feeling made me fully feel the breath of spring. So much so that when my fingers touched her rosy, dewy nipples, I ejaculated.

"Foreigner, stop pretending to be civilized. You can fuck her however you want, and later you can torture her. Experience the pleasure of torturing a rich young lady. Her father is a famous tycoon here!" At this moment, Colonel Li had already stripped Pan Wenjin of her top, licking her bright red nipples while reaching into her pants to grope her genitals. This was the first time I had ever touched a girl's nipples, and the nipples of such a beautiful Eastern beauty. The slightly milky fragrance made me dizzy, and the unspeakable thrill made me tremble.

Her breasts were so white, as white as the vast snowfields of Alaska, and her skin was so fine, as fine as exquisite Chinese silk. Her breasts were so delicate, like the towering snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas in a painting; her waist was so slender, like the graceful willows by West Lake; her abdomen was so flat, like the endless plains of Mississippi; and most captivating of all were her nipples, the pink areolas like two vibrant rainbows after the rain, nestled around two tender red spots, like the budding red roses of my hometown, Florida.

My hands groped haphazardly, touching those unforgettable jade-like breasts, savoring their delicate beauty. My fingers trembled as I pinched, pinching the two red beans atop those snow-capped peaks and the two colorful clouds that guarded them. Li Shihui was still struggling, still trying to escape, even though her limbs were shackled and locked behind her head, it was all in vain. To this day, I still can't explain why I was so shameless, so lewd, so shameless that I was no different from an animal, so lewd that even thinking about it now makes me blush. I pounced on her breasts, suckling her nipples—the second woman's nipples I'd ever suckled besides my mother's. They were wet, slightly salty, and felt amazing. But I still didn't dare pull down her pants and underwear; I just grabbed her firm, round buttocks and groped wildly, touching her flat stomach and mysterious cleavage through her clothes.

"Are you American?" she asked me in English, stopping her struggles. Her English was fluent, and her pronunciation was perfect, which was rare in this underdeveloped country. I nodded in acknowledgment, staring at her in surprise.

"My family and I have been to your country. It's a developed and civilized country, a country that champions democracy and freedom. But why did you treat me like this! Why did you treat a woman who has lost the ability to resist like this! I am innocent. I was just killing those scum who destroyed our country's democracy and freedom with my comrades, just like your country did under the leadership of the great Lincoln. Wasn't that right? You and your lackeys can kill me, can torture me. I am willing to die for the freedom of my country and my people, but you cannot insult me!" Her words stung me. I knew my actions were those of a complete beast, even though she wasn't an American girl and I had no ability to protect her chastity. I stopped and pulled her open collar back, even though I was very unwilling at the time.

Over there, Colonel Li had already stripped Pan Wenjin naked, his erect penis thrusting between her forcibly spread thighs, beginning round after round of violent thrusting. Perhaps it was extreme tension and fear, perhaps it was immense humiliation, but whatever the reason, when Colonel Li left satisfied, she was rendered unconscious by the interrogation.

Although at the time I didn't know if Pan Wenjin was still a pure and innocent unmarried girl like Miss Li Shihui.

The so-called interrogation here had been going on for nearly an hour, while the interrogation of Nguyen Thi Van over there was still fruitless, but judging from the wolfish scene at the place where she was born, one could tell what she had just experienced.

"Are you still going to put on a brave face?" Colonel Li, now fully dressed and dignified, sat behind the interrogation table.

"No woman leaves here without confessing. Let our allies and your die-hards who dare to oppose us witness the torture of branding a clam with fire! Brothers, we've had our gentle treatment; now let's give this Viet Cong woman a fiery one!" Nguyen Thi Van was clearly an extremely resilient woman. Despite her numerous wounds and her ashen face upon hearing the words "branding a clam with fire," she bit her lip and refused to utter a single word. The thugs began preparing.

This was an extremely cruel torture method used on women in the Middle Ages. Nguyen Thi Van's legs were spread wide, completely exposing her private parts. A policeman placed a red-hot iron rod into a bucket filled with oyster sauce, a cloud of white smoke filling the interrogation room. Then he took it out and viciously shoved it into her vagina. Instantly, a wisp of smoke rose from her lower body. The woman, who had remained mostly silent during the torture, let out a heart-wrenching scream, and the acrid smell of burning flesh filled the interrogation room. The stick was pulled out, its white fluid mixed with streaks of crimson blood. It was reinserted into the roaring fire, carrying a hint of stench, and soon it was red-hot again.

"Nguyen Thi Van, if you don't confess, I'll burn you again, and I'll have them burn your clitoris specifically, so you can never be a woman again!" At first, I couldn't fully understand the meaning of Colonel Li's words, but later, when I had a woman I loved, I understood their viciousness. This time, he personally carried out the torture. When his fingers forcibly parted Nguyen Thi Van's vulva, this steadfast middle-aged woman screamed in pain, and for the first time, begged him to be gentler.

"Then quickly tell me the radio code, who your contact is, otherwise I'll keep burning you like this, and I'll pour chili water inside, until the end of the world!"

"Nobody's contacting me—ouch—please don't pull—ouch—don't break up—" The iron rod was taken out, not quenched in the oil drum, but pressed directly onto the exposed vulva, the woman's clitoris, the source of her passion, the most concentrated area of sensory nerve endings in the female body, and of course, the most painful place! Her screams were beyond description, sending chills down one's spine, like a cry from hell. After a while, her voice grew weaker and weaker, and she fainted.

"Mr. Rolls and I will go next door to talk to these two ladies. You wake her up and continue the interrogation. Besides branding her genitals, can you disinfect this old bitch? In short, use every means to get a confession." When Colonel Li and I unlocked the shackles on the four legs of the interrogation table, the splashing water and soft groans proved that Nguyen Thi Van had woken up. Just as Li and I were escorting Pan Wenjin and Li Shihui away, Nguyen Thi Van's piercing screams rang out again from inside. I knew they were torturing her again, and I wondered what kind of torture they were using this time—whether they were continuing to brand her genitals with fire or pouring chili water down her throat!

The interrogation room next door wasn't as complicated as the one we had just seen. There was only an electric shock device we had seen before and several different types of sticks placed beside it. Pan Wenjin was the first to be tortured. I watched as he stripped her naked, bound her body in a spread-eagle position to the rotating and lifting torture bed, and then turned on the power. Pan Wenjin wasn't as silent as Nguyen Thi Van; she seemed somewhat neurotic. The torture continued intermittently throughout, interrupted by her screams. Especially when Colonel Li clipped the electrodes to her nipples and clitoris, her cries were almost hysterical.

This electrocution wasn't like the one used on Nguyen Thi Van earlier, which was merely meant to arouse the female prisoner's sexual desire; it was genuine electrocution! As the current indicator curve rose to the area filled with red, Phan Van Chan's tightly bound body arched back violently, her head snapping back, her fingers clenching and unclenching, her insteps extremely tense, and her toes pointing forward, like a live fish being heated in a microwave. Colonel Li was very experienced in administering electrocution to female prisoners; he knew how to inflict excruciating pain without killing her. He would increase the voltage to nearly 100 kilovolts, causing crackling sparks to emanate from Phan Van Chan's nipples and vulva, and then increase the current to 100 milliamperes, causing the electric baton inserted into her vulva to move in and out frequently.

Under Colonel Li's unhurried and controlled control, he continued to torture Pan Wenjin with electric shocks. He would occasionally loosen her restraints to vent his own frustrations. Exhausted, Pan Wenjin's body was limp like noodles; even without the ropes binding her, she had no strength to resist and could only submit to Colonel Li's actions. Faced with such a scene, faced with such a naked beauty, any man would react, so I also violated her. This was my first intimate contact with a woman.

Pan Wenjin's passage was narrow and had many folds, very stimulating to a man's genitals. I guessed she was probably a virgin before, or at least hadn't given birth. After I finished and left her body, Colonel Li tied Pan Wenjin up again. The power was turned on again, and she once again let out a scream like a train whistle. This time, Colonel Li didn't simply stimulate her vulva and surrounding mucous membranes as before. Instead, he lecherously parted Pan Wenjin's petals, inserted a thin electric baton into her urethra, and then told me to turn on the switch. Pan Wenjin screamed wildly, and urine gushed out more than two meters away.

The interrogation, including the torture of Ruan Shiyun, had already lasted for more than two hours. Colonel Li was probably a little tired, so I took over his role. When I held those two pinkish-red buds in my hand and saw the burn marks where the electrodes had been, when I parted the dew-covered corolla to expose the agate that had been shocked countless times, when I saw the crystal tears hanging on her beautiful oval face, looking at my hand with sorrowful eyes, my heart was truly filled with extreme contradictions. If I refused, Colonel Li would certainly kick me out and report my involvement in the torture to the US military advisory group in Saigon, and perhaps even the US embassy in Vietnam. I might then be deported, and the newspaper might dismiss me.

Faced with this real pressure, the moral boundaries were fragile. I began to find excuses for my atrocities, ultimately giving them seemingly legitimate reasons. After all, this was wartime. Today they were unarmed, vulnerable women, but what about yesterday? They might have been our enemies, and those terrorists hiding in secret places. If they had weapons, wouldn't they have killed my compatriots too? War has its own unique laws: you're either an ally or an enemy. Would they have confessed without torture? I had no need to feel guilty, nor any need to take responsibility for any of this.

So when Colonel Li ordered me to inflict the torture, the physical pleasure and moral confusion made me feel at ease joining in. Pan Wenjin cried out in despair under the electric shocks, but finally, in her delirium, she confessed what Colonel Li wanted. Next was Li Shihui. Colonel Li was truly inhuman. When we stripped Li Shihui naked and hung her upside down, he repeatedly stabbed her genitals with various thick and thin wooden sticks, some of which had iron spikes and pig bristles at the tips! Her private parts, which I wouldn't even dare touch, were pierced and left a bloody mess. Finally, Colonel Li raped her and tied her nipples with rope, hanging her alive from the rafters.

Those nipples and areolas stretched long by her body weight, those twisted and deformed breasts, that heart-wrenching scream, that bleeding vulva, those torn labia majora and minora, and Pan Wenjin's clitoris pricked by the iron spikes on the wooden sticks—these images still haunt my mind. Especially when I later learned that Li Shihui, in shame and anger, committed suicide by banging her head against the wall after the torture, I felt as if I had personally killed her with the cruelest methods.

At the beginning of the new century, I returned there once again. Everything had changed. The original women's prison was gone, replaced by newly built dormitories, leaving no trace. I wondered if Nguyen Thi Van, that steadfast heroine, was still alive. Phan Van Can, who endured long and inhumane electric torture before finally collapsing, was said to have died at the hands of her comrades. Colonel Le, after the fall of Saigon, disguised himself and fled to Da Nang, drowning while trying to escape to Manila by small boat. Le Thi Hue, who committed suicide in grief and anger, was also falsely accused of being a traitor, and her family members died one after another during the socialist transformation of South Vietnam by North Vietnam.

Thirty years had passed since that war, and the ideological bulwark had crumbled in the tide of the market economy, but who would seek justice for those women who were brutally abused and humiliated in the war?

[The End]

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The brutal Vietnam War

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