Decades-Old Bombs Still a Threat to Laos

Posted on Sep 24, 2011

U.S. Army / Bradley C. Church

Village workers help U.S. Air Force members clear trees and brush from a Vietnam War-era crash site in the Boualapha province of Laos in 2007.

Last week, delegates from dozens of countries traveled to Beirut to talk about Laos, where decades after the Vietnam War there are still an estimated 80 million unexploded bombs scattered across fields and forests.

Each year, the live remnants of U.S. cluster bombs kill or injure 300 Laotians, many of them children. And the bombs are of particular danger to farmers, who risk their lives every time they plow a new plot.

The delegates convened to try to persuade other nations to join a year-old international treaty to rid the world of stockpile cluster munitions. But the U.S., the nation that rained cluster bombs on Laos so many years ago and, according to some authorities, the largest producer of the deadly devices, did not join the conference in Lebanon and has declined to sign the treaty. —BF

Global treaty pushes U.S. and others to ban cluster bombs

A bomb-detector sweeps through a rice field in Laos. Throughout the country, an estmated 80 million unexploded bombs are dormant threats lingering from the U.S. bombing campaign four decades ago that targeted communist fighters and supply lines. Bobby Caina Calvan

Bomb recovery team members Pheng Souvanthone (left) and Liangkham Laphommavong take a break from their work sweeping for bombs in the Laotian countryside. Bobby Caina Calvan

Rusted UXOs—unexploded ordnance dropped on Loas during the Vietnam war —under lock and key. Children learn to call them "bombies." The explosives claim hundreds of lives each year, many of them children who mistake the UXOs for toys. Bobby Caina Calvan

 

PHONSAVAN, Laos—Liangkham Laphommavong has one of the world’s most dangerous jobs.
Her 9-year-old son knows this and protested when, at the start of a recent morning, Laphommavong set off to join a crew of 17 other women who routinely put their lives at risk.

Throughout Laos, people like Laphommavong tramp into bucolic rice paddies, woods and rolling hills—landscapes that belie the hazards of their jobs. Laphommavong is a bomb sweeper, covering terrain, inch by perilous inch, in search of unexploded ordnance.

There are an estimated 80 million unexploded bombs scattered around Laos—still-lethal remnants of a secret war against communists waged by U.S. forces four decades ago.

In one suspect field, Laphommavong was armed only with her nerves and a hand-held bomb detector. Her face was expressionless and tense as she fixed her gaze on the ground. In black boots, she stepped deliberately through a fallow rice field; her detector beeped steadily as it glided over patches of barren earth and clumps of grass.

In the year that she’s worked as a sweeper, Laphommavong’s detector has passed over numerous suspicious objects. When the tool’s beeps quicken, so does the beat of her heart, signaling it's time to get on her knees and, with a small trowel, dig carefully for what lurks beneath.

“I am afraid all the time,” the 32-year-old single mother said, through an interpreter. “We are careful every time we take a step. We always think there could be a bomb.”

By most accounts, Laos is the most bombed country per capita in history. U.S warplanes dropped 270 million explosives on Laos during more than a half-million missions during the Vietnam War. U.S. officials say more bombs were dropped on Laos than were unleashed on Japan and Germany, combined, during World War II. Most of the bombs were cluster munitions designed to spread damage by scattering arsenals of smaller bomblets.

Nearly a third of those bombs never exploded.
Last week, delegates from dozens of countries convened in Beirut, Lebanon, to push other nations, including the United States, to join a year-old international treaty that would eradicate the global stockpile of cluster munitions.

More than 100 countries have joined the treaty , but some of the world’s largest cluster bomb producers—including the United States, China and Russia—have declined to sign on.

The symbolism was inescapable last year when the Convention on Cluster Munitions chose Laos to host the first meeting of the treaty’s signatories and issue a self-described “political declaration” seeking an end to cluster bombs.

Laos pays a price

Each year, 300 Laotians die or are injured because of U.S bombs. The explosives remain a particular menace to farmers who risk death or serious injury when they plow into what could be minefields.
Government officials refer to unexploded ordnance as UXOs. Across Laos, villagers and school children know them simply as “bombies.”

Dormant bombs lie in wait under fallen forest leaves, lodged among river rocks, nestled in weeds or strewn across pastures. They are scattered along roads, in streams, near schools and within villages.
About half the casualties from UXOs are children who mistake dart-shaped bombs or baseball-sized ordnance for toys.

In May, three children, between 9 and 11 years old, died when they came across a bomb while foraging for bamboo in Savannakhet Province, an area hard hit during the war because of its proximity to Vietnam and the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

Seven years ago in another heavily bombed area, a UXO killed four boys who were walking home from school. Among the victims was Pheng Souvanthone’s 11-year-old brother.

Today Souvanthone leads the all-woman crew assembled by the U.K.-based humanitarian group MAG—Mines Advisory Group—one of a handful of outside organizations helping the Lao government clear UXOs.

During a break from a sweep of a rice field, Souvanthone talked about the accident that killed her brother. It was so long ago, but she said that even when she's working with her crew to clear bombs, memories of him sit in the back of her mind.

As Souvanthone's team worked, villagers nearby went about their usual tasks. One woman paid little heed to the sweepers, uniformed in green coveralls and floppy wide-brimmed hats. A young man walked casually through the fields as he returned home from nearby woods, gathering vegetables.

Bombies strike unexpectedly

Children learn about the bombies at an early age, some through tragedy and others in the classroom. In school they are taught to recognize bombs and be mindful of their surroundings, where they step and where they play. Should they run across a bombie, they are instructed to keep their distance.

In another village, Ladoune—he goes only by his family name—recalled his own experiences with UXOs. He knew there were lots of bombs outside his village. He smiled briefly as he remembered his childhood, roaming the woods and fields near his village. He once came across a bombie and stepped away, like he was taught in school.

The lesson, though, didn’t protect him as an adult. One day last fall, a bomb exploded in his face as he stoked a backyard fire. How could he know, he said, that a UXO lay buried just feet from his family’s home?
Ladoune lost an eye and a finger.

Ladoune is in his early 20s. His vision is mostly destroyed and his future is uncertain. He wonders how he will care for his wife and two young children.

There were assurances of help from the government and aid agencies but none materialized, he said. He’s still waiting for a promised glass eye.

“Who do I blame? What’s the use?” he asked.
For years, U.S. officials had denied that its warplanes ever crossed into Laos during the Vietnam War.
“There was never a clear declaration that the war took place, let alone that there was this extensive bombing,” said Channapha Khamvongsa, executive director of the Washington-based group Legacies of War. “The extent of the bombing was so vast,” she said.

Today, though, on its online backgrounder on Laos, the U.S. State Department sums it up this way: “For

nearly a decade, Laos was subjected to extremely heavy bombing as the U.S. sought to interdict the portion of the Ho Chi Minh Trail that passed through eastern Laos. Unexploded ordnance, particularly cluster munitions, remains a major problem.”

In 1996, the U.S. Air Force released records of its bombing missions in Laos, from 1964 to 1973, allowing the Laotian government and aid groups to pinpoint searches for unexploded bombs.

Pressure to do more

Since 1994, recovery teams have found about a million bombs, after sweeping through less than 90 square miles in a country roughly the size of Minnesota. About three-quarters of Laos may yet have UXOs.

The Lao government has refrained from publicly criticizing the United States, deferring to the international community—and critics within the United States—to pressure Washington to do more.

In a letter to the State Department, six former U.S. ambassadors and delegates to Laos joined Legacies of War this summer to urge Congress to commit $100 million over the next 10 years for the bomb-eradication program. They tried unsuccessfully to get Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to visit Laos and address the UXO issue during her recent swing through Southeast Asia.

Despite international pressure, U.S. officials also didn’t make a trip last November to Vientiane, Laos’ capital city, where delegates from dozens of countries rolled out the cluster bomb treaty.

Just prior to the historic meeting in Vientiane, the U.S. government issued a statement saying it was “committed to reducing the impact of explosive remnants of war on civilians worldwide.”

The U.S. government said that since 1993 it has spent more than $51 million on UXOs and landmines in Laos, with $16 million given within the past three years. It also noted that the U.S. Department of Defense has trained and equipped bomb clearance teams.

The United States contributes about half of the financial aid coming from the international community, but is under pressure to spend more on an effort that is far from complete.

For years, Laos insisted it could deal with UXOs alone, dismissing international offers of aid. Later, however, officials conceded they needed help.

Deadly dots on a map

At the Lao government’s UXO office in Xieng Khouang Province, a huge map is blotted in red, each red dot signifying a bomb drop on Laos. In some spots the ink bleeds from a heavy concentration of dots.
One of those places is Xieng Khouang Province.

The World Heritage Site known as the Plain of Jars is located here and bears scars of U.S. air strikes. Many of its famous huge, ancient stone containers sustained heavy damage.

Recovery teams have swept most of the site for unexploded ordnance, but signs still warn visitors to remain only in areas designated bomb-free.

Around Phonsavan, the province’s largest city, huge salvaged casings of American bombs are featured attractions along the busy main street. A line of missiles, some of them towering more than six feet, serves as fencing in front of homes.

This city is home to a UXO information center, where tourists, including U.S. military veterans, learn about the human toll caused by the U.S. bombing.

Kinghpet Phimmavong, provincial coordinator for the government’s bomb clearance operations in Xieng Khouang, could only laugh when asked how long it will take to rid his country of the unwanted bombs.

“It depends on us getting more funds to get more people to work looking for bombies,” he said, “so it goes faster.”

Laos lends muscle to cluster sub-munitions convention meeting

Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr Thongloun Sisoulith and his delegation are attending the Second Meeting of States Parties to the Convention on Cluster Sub-munitions in Beirut, Lebanon, from September 12-16.

Dr Thongloun was chair at the First Meeting of States Parties of the Convention on Cluster Sub-munitions, held last November in Vientiane.

At the second meeting, the Lao delegation was praised by other States Parties, international organisations and non-government organisations for successfully carrying out its chairmanship role during the first meeting.
At this week's meeting the Lao delegation has undertaken the role of vice-chairman and cluster sub-munitions coordinator - an Oslo treaty obligation.

At the beginning of the meeting, Dr Thongloun handed over the role of chairman to the Minister of Foreign Affairs and Emigrants of the Republic of Lebanon Dr Adnan Mansour, which he will fullfil until the third meeting in 2012.

Laos' profile has received a significant boost in the international political arena since the first meeting. More countries and international organisations are now aware of the uphill struggle the country faces trying to clear UXO, and donors have increased as a result.

At the first meeting in Vientiane, the Vientiane Declaration was agreed by the States Parties and a Vientiane Action Plan was drawn up to further the implementation work agreed in the Oslo treaty.

UXO clearance, victim assistance, risk education and international cooperation in mine clearance were priority obligations identified in the Vientiane Declaration.

Meanwhile, Laos still struggles to educate people about the dangers of cluster sub-munitions in the areas affected.

As a result of Laos' work lobbying other countries, the number of States Parties to the convention increased from 46 to 63 during Laos' chairmanship.

By Times Reporters (Latest Update September 16, 2011)

Savannakhet sees progress in UXO clearance

More than 9,000 people in Savannakhet province have benefited from an unexploded ordnance (UXO) clearance project by Handicap International, according to an evaluation meeting held at the provincial administration office on Monday.


The meeting's participants evaluated the progress of the Integrated UXO Threat Reduction project's three main activities - clearance, risk education and community liaising - and discussed challenges and achievements that took place in 2009-2010.


The project has cleared about 623,000 m2 of land of which 55 percent was designated for agriculture and 45 percent for development. In addition, about 30,000 people took part in risk education activities and about 60 families benefited from an initiative to clear UXO from household garden plots.


The main funding for the work was provided through the European Union and UNICEF and focused on the three most contaminated areas in the province - Sepon, Vilabouly and Nong districts.


The project's goal was to contribute to poverty reduction in UXO affected villages through risk removal, which provides opportunities for increased agricultural production and improves access to essential services including healthcare and education.


Vice Chairman of the National Regulatory Authority (NRA) for the UXO/Mine Action Sector in Laos and Minister to the Government Office, Mr Bounheuang Duangphachanh, said UXO clearance is one of the most important and urgent tasks for rural area development and poverty reduction.


“UXO remains a major problem in Laos because it hampers socio-economic development in 15 provinces and continues to cause the death and injury of innocent people.”


“I'm happy with the result of the meeting and the project's progress. We have agreed to Handicap International's continued assistance in implementing the next phase of the project in Savannakhet province in 2011-2012,” he said.


After the meeting, the NRA delegation and staff from the Savannakhet Administration office traveled to Sepon district to meet villagers affected by UXO and survey clearance sites.


Unfortunately, the effects of cli mate change, a lack of road access to clearance sites and iron ore deposits and discarded scrap metal have slowed the progress of the mission, according to survey technician and project mana ger Mr Kingkeo Boualiphavong.


Some villagers purchased bomb scanning equipment to search for UXO themselves so they could clear their land for farming.
Sadly, the farmers' lack of experience and knowledge concerning proper removal and detonation methods has resulted in a number of fatalities and casualties, a representative from Nong district said.


Savannakhet is the most UXO contaminated province in Laos and, despite concerted efforts by provincial authorities and non-governmental organisations, unexploded ordnance remains a serious threat to the safety of local people and to development.

By Phoonsab Thevongsa 
(Latest Update September 7 , 2011)

U.S. Senior Defense Official visits Laos to discuss increased bilateral cooperation

(KPL) Brig. Gen. Richard Simcock, Principal Director for South and Southeast Asia in the Office of the Secretary of Defense, visited Vientiane, Laos from August 31-September 3 for a series of meetings with the Ministries of National Defense, Foreign Affairs, and members of the U.S. country team to highlight the growing U.S.-Laos bilateral defense relationship.

Richard Simcock, left, meets Major General Chansamone Chanyalath in Vientiane Capital.

Brig. Gen. Simcock met Vice-Minister of National Defense, Maj. Gen. Chansamone Chanyalath, and Assistant Minister of Foreign Affairs, Mr. Alounkeo Kittikhoun.


Discussions during these meeting focused on opportunities for future cooperation in the areas of unexploded ordnance removal, military medical cooperation, humanitarian assistance, and English language training.
Throughout his visit, Brig. Gen. Simcock underscored the U.S. Department of Defense’s continued commitment to working with the Lao People’s Army on humanitarian issues that contribute to regional peace and stability.

Brig. Gen. Simcock will visit the Lao Foreign Affairs Institute on Friday, September 2, to meet Lao diplomats and military officers and present remarks on “U.S. Defense Engagement in Asia”.

He will also meet Director of the National Regulatory Authority for UXO/Mine Action, Mr. Phoukieo Chanthasomboune, to discuss implementation of a program through the NRA to provide assistance and support for the Lao People’s Army in their efforts to contribute to humanitarian UXO removal in Laos.
Source: KPL Lao News Agency
September 06, 2011

The waiting day arrives

As she skipped along the footpath paved with broken bricks with her baby in her arms, Nhai sung out loud to the sky, the trees and anyone else who cared to listen. There was something magical and carefree about the morning sky today, and she made her way happily back towards the house, singing all the way.


Then suddenly she caught herself as a painful memory stabbed her like a pang of guilt. She stood in the shade underneath a kok ta kop tree and thought for a while. What am I doing skipping down the road like a teenager? People will think I'm mad. I have a family now and a job as well. Responsibility bore down on her with a sudden weight, as she thought about her job.

Nhai stroked her baby's hair as she reflected for a while. There were some days when the responsibilities were too much, when she would rather work a normal office job. But those days were few and far between, she checked herself, as she wiped that thought from her mind. Her job might be dangerous, but she was saving lives every day.

She worked clearing unexploded ordnance, the deadly legacy of a nine-year war the world never knew about. And now she was the head of her clearance team. She was in command of the lives of those around her as they fought to make the land safe for the villagers to farm.

Nhai sat down with her baby on a wooden bench in the middle of the yard. She looked up into the sky above the kok ta kop tree, its deep green leaves filtering the light. She watched the fairy floss clouds that floated past, pushed by a gentle breeze. It was hard to imagine that death rained down from such a peaceful place.

She thought back to six years ago, when she and her family lost her mother to one of those bombs. Her mother, a respected village elder and the woman who brought her into the world. The memory was as clear as day now, just like it happened yesterday. It was in the middle of June, under a cloudless sky, bright blue and perhaps a little harsh. Nhai was carrying a bag of food across the north side of the rice field when the sound of an explosion was heard coming from the west. Water droplets glittered in the air, and smoke drifted across the fields.

Nhai stood frozen to the spot, gazing over to the place where the bomb had exploded. Spot fires burned all around and an acrid smell was filling the air. She wondered if her father had detonated the bomb to clear the bamboo forest that bordered the rice fields and clear more land to farm. Then she started over in the direction of the bomb. She quickened her pace as she headed toward the edge of the rice field, with butterflies in her stomach.

The butterflies in her stomach turned to stone, when she reached the spot and saw her father holding her mother in his arms, her bodily hanging limp and covered in blood. Her father's face was contorted with a mixture of anger, urgency and fear, tears streaming down his it. He was shouting at her but his words sounded like they were coming from a mile away.

She just stood there staring; her legs jelly and about to collapse underneath her. She reached out and touched her mother, covered in blood a deep red the colour of a late afternoon sun. Her skin was burnt in places and the smell was stronger now, a mix of burning hair and a sickly sweet odour. Both of her legs were broken and the blast had torn her stomach open, her intestines spilling out onto the ground.

Her father's voice came back to her now. “Nhai, your mother got hit by a bombie! Go home quickly and get Uncle Pheng. Bring a motorcycle here. We have to get your mother to the hospital.” Nhai started screaming, until she thought her lungs would burst. “Somebody please help my mother. She's been hit by a bomb,” she screamed in vain.

The other villagers in the fields had dropped their tools and were coming running. They knew by now it wasn't just somebody blasting tree stumps or building a farm dam, it was one of those days that everybody prayed would never come. They swept Nhai's mother up into their arms, and started carrying her back to the village. Alas, half way back across the fields her broken body gave in. Caught by the full force of the blast, she never stood a chance against such a deadly weapon.

Her mother's funeral was held at the remote village temple. They had to wait a few days until all their relatives arrived, traveling from far and wide to come and pay their last respects. Nhai remembered the day well. Stricken with grief, people were crying and shaking their heads. How many people must keep on dying so many years after the war had ended?

Nhai managed a small prayer as she knelt beside her mother's coffin. “My dear mother! If your soul is alive, please watch over us and keep us safe from danger. I don't know what to do now that you are gone!” But a quiet determination burned in the back of her mind as she watched the flames of the funeral pyre, the smell taking her back to the smoking rice field.

Her baby's cries woke Nh ai with a start. She rocked her baby, letting the precious life in her arms wash away her dreams of death. “Cha! Cha! Go back to sleep in the cradle!” Nhai hung the cradle to a branch of the tree and whispered “Close your eyes, I will sing to you to sleep.” She went inside and placed some firewood under the soup pan, and came back to sit at the bench. It was afternoon now and the sky was a dark blue that told her rain was on the way. It reminded her of the first time she had gone to apply for a bomb disposal job.

The people in the villag e had shaken their heads at her, some with doubt, some with derision. “A woman should behave like a woman,” they said. “Bomb disposal is not a woman's job.” Who should be so ambitious, they whispered, besides she's had barely any education. Her own father had told her to withdraw her application, telling her it was shameful and that she should apply for a different job.

She wouldn't, she had told him. She would apply and reapply until somebody gave her a chance. And she stuck to her word. She applied for every job she saw advertised, and every company she had heard about. For a long time her letters went unanswered, but then one day someone gave her an interview.

“Do you know how many times you have applied for this job?” the man asked her. She told them that, yes, she had applied four times. She told them that she knew it was a dangerous job, but there was nothing else she wanted to do. “Bomb disposal means risking your life every second. If you do not learn all the things that need to be learnt, you could die very easily. Even then you are not in control,' the man told her with a stern look on his face. “Even if I die, I won't regret it,” she replied vehemently.

They told her that since she was so determined they would give her a ch ance. The villagers' doubts began to evaporate, when she told them she was to leave for the city to start her training programme. And since that day, Nhai never looked back. She studied hard, and took everything in. It seemed like yesterday when she left her village, Nhai had thought at her graduation ceremony, as she hugged her fellow students before they were sent off to their respective assignments. She had graduated top of her class.

Time flowed like water under the bridge, she thought as she sat in the garden. The bomb might have killed her mother, but it had given her a different direction in life. Had it not been for the bomb, she would more than likely be still working in the rice fields. There was no shame in that, she thought, but fate had chosen a different path for her, and now she was managing a bomb disposable unit, making life safer for villagers across the country.

A knock on the back door brought her back from her thoughts again. It was one of the people from her team. “Nhai, we've found another bomb not far from here,” she told her. “This one is a big one, and the project director wants you down there. We don't know how to disarm it without your help. Nhai stood up slowly and looked at her younger sister who was working away silently on silk weaving loom. “Somphou, please look after your nephew! I have to go to work. I will be back as soon as I can.”

As she walked out the door, she offered a silent prayer to her departed mother. Today I am going out to destroy one more of those horrible things that stole your life away, she told her, and I thank you from that. Today I am doing what I was born to do, and may your spirit watch over me and protect me from danger. Death and destruction have given me hope and opportunity, and every life that I might save is a blessing to you.

By Sengphouxay (Latest Update September 3 , 2011)