hankyoreh

Year of birth: 1956

Date of the massacre: Nov. 8, 1966 (solar calendar)

Description of the massacre: Around 8 am, Korean soldiers who were marching through the village forced their way into my home. Since my mother and father always went to the river early in the morning to catch fish, I would spend most of the day at home with my grandfather Trần Toàn (then 61 years old). I was holding my grandfather’s hand, but the soldiers pushed 10-year-old me away and dragged my grandfather into the yard. I had to watch as they shot him in the forehead, neck and chin. I scrambled into the air raid shelter (a cave) in an attempt to get away and then made a dash for the other exit. By the time the Korean soldiers threw grenades into the shelter, I’d already gotten out and didn’t get hurt. On that day, the Korean soldiers went into each house and killed the residents. After the soldiers left the village, I went back home and covered my grandfather’s body with a straw mat and then fled to another village.

(Today, there’s a memorial in Ha Tay Village that says, “In memory of our countrymen who were massacred by the South Korean army at Ha Tay Village in Nov. 1966.” “One platoon entered the village. I witnessed houses burning and smoke rising from outside the village [though I didn’t go in myself],” confessed Kim Gi-tae, who commanded a company of marines during the Vietnam War, in an article titled “Another sweep that even the company commander didn’t know about,” in the Hankyoreh 21, Vol. 305, Apr. 27, 2000). Twenty villagers were killed in the massacre, leaving Trần Thị Tại as the only survivor.)

I have a congenital spinal disability. My grandfather was the family member I spent the most time with, and he doted on his disabled granddaughter. Losing my grandfather was as painful as losing my parents. After that, I couldn’t get the image of him being shot by the Korean soldiers out of my head, which caused me mental anguish for a long time. Since we couldn’t live in the village any more, my parents and I had to endure a difficult life as refugees wandering through other villages.

What I want from Korea: I have a spinal disability, and it’s hard to live by myself, without a husband or any children. My grandfather was as close to me as my parents. I would like Koreans to help survivors like me and the family members of those who were killed.