A TV Cameraman’s memoir – "Rescue of Yasuko Naito" Part 1

By Hideki AKIYAMA, NDN Bangkok

JPN

This is a memoir by Mr. Yukio Suzuki, who worked as the chief cameraman for Nippon Denpa News for many years. This time, we feature the dramatic rescue of Ms. Yasuko Naito, who went missing in Cambodia after the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime in 1979. It is a valuable record that candidly documents the state of Cambodia six months after the collapse of the genocidal

< A Letter Seeking Rescue >

※Mr. Suzuki’s narratives will be in bold italic.

In 1979, Mr. Suzuki, who had just been assigned to Hanoi as a correspondent for Nippon Denpa News, received a significant assignment. It started with a letter. Mr. Suzuki writes:

”NHK obtained a letter entrusted to them by a Japanese person at a Thai-Cambodian refugee camp. The sender of the letter was one of those who were reported missing in Cambodia at the time. The letter was from Ms. Yasuko Naito, who had been living in Phnom Penh after marrying a Cambodian diplomat.“

Ms. Naito had been living in Phnom Penh after marrying a Cambodian diplomat, but following the establishment of the Khmer Rouge regime, she was forcibly relocated to the countryside and went missing. The news that Ms. Naito might be alive in a refugee camp led Nippon Denpa News (NDN) to become everyone’s choice for this mission, because NDN had a strong connection with Vietnam, which effectively controlled Cambodia after the invasion

＜Heading Straight to Phnom Penh＞

“We decided to enter Phnom Penh first and wait for the results of the Vietnamese government's search operation. The distance from Ho Chi Minh City to Phnom Penh is about 250 kilometers, which typically takes 4 to 5 hours to cover. On June 7th, along with senior photographer Mr. Isaigaki (who later became the president of Nippon Denpa News) and two NHK personnel who had come from Japan to support us, we set out from our bureau at the Majestic Hotel and headed toward the border on National Route 1”

The youngest among the crew, 29-year-old Suzuki, was responsible for recording the audio for the interview that would take place when Ms. Naito was rescued. At that time, sound was recorded separately from the film. Suzuki's role as an assistant was to capture the audio using a tape recorder he had brought with him.

< Crossing the Border >

“At the border between Vietnam and Cambodia, there were modest, small thatched-roof buildings on both the Vietnamese and Cambodian sides. Each had 4 to 5 soldiers standing guard, and there was a gate made with a horizontal bar across the road, much like a railway crossing gate. The buildings were rudimentary huts in a field of nothing but rice paddies.

There were hardly any people around. Four to five people on bicycles, looking precarious and weak, got off their bikes before the gate and walked past the unconcerned soldiers. That was all there was—nothing out of the ordinary. As foreigners, we got out of the car to ensure we were noticed. There was no passport check; instead, a Vietnamese escort showed the necessary documents and explained the situation. We passed through without incident. The soldier at the other side of border gate, about 100 meters away, reviewed the documents and then opened the gate for us.

There was no clear sense of having entered Cambodia. Looking out the window, we could see 2 to 3 people in black moving through the rice paddies. Due to the dry season, there was a tremendous amount of dust kicked up by the passing vehicle.“

< The Deep mistrust of Vietnam: "The Dug-Up Road" >

“The vehicle provided by the Vietnamese side for the coverage was likely a Soviet or Czech-made bus. It was a small bus that could accommodate about 30 people. Of course, there was no air conditioning. Luong, who was both the guide and overseer from the External Culture Committee, sat next to the driver and kept an eye on the surroundings while pressing down on his AK (Kalashnikov) with his foot.

However, there were no signs of people ahead on the road or in the rice paddies on either side. The bus continued to move, kicking up dust for about ten minutes. Then, the road appeared to be dug up in a crisscross pattern. The bus proceeded slowly, swerving right and left. This was reportedly done by the Khmer Rouge to impede the advance of Vietnamese tanks. Indeed, while motorcycles and bicycles could navigate around the holes, the car's speed dropped drastically. “I see,” I thought, understanding the situation.

The scenery had clearly changed. Sugar palm trees now stood out among the rice paddies. How long had we been winding along this road? Finally, it became somewhat drivable, though the asphalt was peeling off, preventing us from going fast. The surroundings still showed only sporadic signs of people. We could see some settlements, but there were no visible inhabitants.

When we stopped for lunch along the way, Luong from the External Communications Department took us to a massacre site. It was a large, crater-like depression in the ground, covered with grass. It was difficult to imagine that such a seemingly ordinary spot had once been the site of a massacre where people were buried.

Under a mango tree, we had sandwiches provided by the Majestic Hotel and lukewarm drinks for lunch. The drink was a green, overly sweet Vietnamese soft drink. Looking up, I noticed a large number of red ants swarming the branches and quickly moved our lunch spot. These ants were so aggressive that even if you tried to shake them off, they wouldn't let go until their heads were torn off. The bite was so painful that it made you jump, and the throbbing pain lasted for a while.‘

After traveling for about 4 to 5 hours on National Route 1, Mr. Suzuki and his party arrived at the ferry crossing at Neak Luong on the Mekong River. At that time, there was no bridge across the approximately 600-meter-wide river. Until April 2015, when the "Tsubasa Bridge" was opened with the aid from the Japanese government, the ferry remained the only means of crossing.　What Mr. Suzuki observed at the ferry was a scene of the Cambodian people, who, even six months after their liberation, appeared hapless and lacking in vitality.“

< Neak Luong Ferry >

“A group of people in black—both their clothing and sarongs—were barefoot and moved with a lifeless, shuffling gait.

At the Neak Luong ferry, a vessel that seemed to have been brought from Vietnam was operating. We crossed smoothly without having to wait. The people who boarded with us had eyes that sparkled with intensity and watched us silently.

On the journey so far, we had hardly passed any vehicles. The only ones we encountered occasionally were Vietnamese military vehicles full of soldiers.

After crossing the ferry, the road improved significantly. Gradually, groups heading towards Vietnam began to appear. Some carried burdens on either end of a bamboo pole, while others transported goods in carts. Their clothing and sarongs were all black, with only slight variations in the color of their krama (Cambodian scarves). The groups grew in number, and everyone walked silently and with a sense of weary determination.

The groups heading towards Vietnam continued even as we entered Phnom Penh. It was said that these were residents who had been forcibly relocated during the Pol Pot era, now returning to their villages near the Vietnamese border.“

The Khmer Rouge regime, modeled after China's Cultural Revolution, forcibly relocated urban residents to rural areas. As a result, urban functions collapsed, and Phnom Penh, once known as the "Paris of the East," had become a ghost town. By the time they arrived, night had fallen, and Mr. Suzuki was about to witness a surreal scene.

< Arrival in Phnom Penh at Night >

“We arrived in Phnom Penh during the twilight hours, just as the sun had set. The city skyline of buildings appeared as dark silhouettes. The road was quite wide and straight.

On both sides of the road were scattered lights that looked like campfires. As I got a better look, I saw that these were people preparing food. The black clothing made the campfire lights stand out vividly. The contrast between the dark buildings and the flickering flames seemed otherworldly.

By nightfall, we finally reached a hotel near Phnom Penh Central Station. The lights were on, which was a relief. This was the only hotel where foreigners could stay at the time.

The hotel staff were Vietnamese, sent from various hotels in Hanoi. Most of the food was canned, as money was not being accepted, making shopping impossible. I remember feeling that the white tablecloths seemed out of place.“

The next morning, Mr. Suzuki, along with photographer Ishigaki, began shooting in Phnom Penh under the harsh daylight.

< The Ruined Capital and the Silent Moving Masses >

“The next morning, the sky was clear. On the nearby main road, white powder was scattered. On the sidewalks, remnants of ashes from the campfires seen the previous night were still visible. Groups of people in black clothing moved steadily through the area. The white powder on the road was said to be from the people who had scavenged for valuables before returning to their homes.

When Phnom Penh's residents were forcibly relocated, the orders were so sudden that they couldn’t hide their valuables elsewhere and had reportedly hidden gold and other items in their homes. This rumor spread among the people, leading them to search for valuables.

The white powder was actually the cotton from pillows and bedding.

The former central bank had been blown up, and banknotes were scattered on a nearby road. I saw a family cooking with those banknotes. It was a strange sight.

Money was not in circulation. Rice was measured with cans of condensed milk and exchanged for goods. I pulled out a black garbage bag, which I used as an emergency rain cover, and offered it in exchange for tobacco. I was able to trade it for three cigarettes.

There seemed to be almost no residents in the city, just groups of people in black moving around.

The Vietnamese army was distributing white, polished rice from trucks throughout the city. The black-clad people swarmed around the trucks, but there was no noise. They collected rice in their krama and left quietly. Despite their own food shortages and widespread hostility, I was impressed by how well the Vietnamese managed the situation.

The major streets of Phnom Penh were blocked off with barrels filled with sand, and there were almost no cars. It seemed odd, but I was told they served as substitutes for sandbags.

Phnom Penh, known as the "Paris of the East," was indeed a city characterized by straight lines and circles. The Central Market’s round shape, the road’s roundabouts, and the wide streets made the city feel unusually spacious due to the lack of cars.

I continued photographing the Central Station, main street, destroyed banks, and Central Market. In every scene, people gathered, but there was no noise, only intense stares. The filth in the backstreets was even worse, with beds and furniture scattered on the roads.”

While Mr. Suzuki and his cameraman mentor Ishigaki were filming liberated Phnom Penh, the Vietnamese military's search operations were ongoing. Then, on June 17, good news arrived.

< Rescue of Ms. Yasuko Naito! >

“The whereabouts of Ms. Yasuko Naito were being investigated by the Vietnamese military. Slowly, information began to come in, possibly via radio communication. Within a few days, we received news that she would be brought by helicopter.

On the day of the rescue, a U.S. military gunship landed in front of us at Pochentong Airport. As the helicopter's rotors were still spinning, a woman disembarked with her hair casually tied back and a small bundle wrapped in a krama.

With a worried expression, she approached us and asked, "Are you Japanese?"

Continued in the next installment of Yasuko Naito's story

A TV Cameraman’s Post-War Vietnam History:

"Rescue of Yasuko Naito" Part 2

References

Nihon Keizai Shimbun: "Scenes Immediately After the Fall of the Pol Pot Regime – Photographer Misae Ishigaki’s Cambodian Experience"http://www.nikkanberita.com/read.cgi?id=201103052127366

◇ Yukio Suzuki

Born in Ibaraki Prefecture in 1950, he joined Nippon Denpa News in 1975. After working as an assistant in post-liberation Vietnam in 1976, he made his debut as a TV cameraman in Cambodia following the collapse of the Khmer Rouge regime in 1979. He served as a correspondent in Ho Chi Minh City from June 1980 to June 1981. As the main cameraman for Nippon Denpa News, he covered major events including the collapse of the Soviet Union and the UN Peacekeeping Operation in Cambodia (PKO) before quitting Nippon Denpa News in 1998. He then opened a photo studio in Bangkok and continued to work as a freelance cameraman. He covered the Pakistan-Afghanistan border after the 9/11 attacks in 2001 and later wartime Iraq in 2003 with the late Shinjiro Hashida. He retired from television camerawork in 2004.