A sad story at the hands of our always brave and faithful French allies……cough cough….sorry, had a frog in my throat.? I meant to say at the hands of the always cowardly and backstabbing dumbasses, the French:
The last time she saw him he was standing on the tarmac at Phnom Penh airport, waving as the ageing Air Cambodia plane carrying her, her daughter, two nephews and three suitcases to safety shuddered into the sky, avoiding by some miracle the constant barrage of Khmer Rouge shells.
In truth, she saw him once more, seven days later, on April 17 1975. But she was in France, and he was on the television. He was hurrying into the compound of the French embassy in Phnom Penh with the prime minister and other high-ranking officials from the former republic, clutching a suitcase she had left him stuffed with nearly $300,000 of her mother’s cash.
He is safe, she thought. But he was not. Four days later two French gendarmes dragged Ung Boun Hor, the former speaker of the Cambodian national assembly, to the compound gates and delivered him, with six other alleged “traitors”, to a platoon of waiting Khmer Rouge soldiers.
One eyewitness said he was so scared of what awaited him his legs were “quite literally shaking”. After that, no one saw Ung Boun Hor again.
Sitting now in her cramped one-room flat in the Paris suburb of Nogent, Billon Ung Boun Hor, 66, relates the horrifying events of those few days three decades ago – portrayed in Roland Joffe’s 1984 movie The Killing Fields – calmly enough. But the years have done nothing to temper her bitterness.
“My life stopped the day my husband was handed over,” she said. “I cannot accept that France, so-called land of justice, cradle of human rights, did that. If the Khmer Rouge had stormed the embassy, shot him on the spot … but the French knew exactly what would happen to him and they just threw him out. There’s a photograph of it happening, here, in Newsweek, May 19 1975. Look.” Her husband’s face is a mask of terror.
[…]ontemporary accounts by Sydney Schanberg, the New York Times correspondent on whose story The Killing Fields was based, Dith Pran, his assistant, and by the Sunday Times’ Jon Swain and Newsweek photographer Al Rockoff, describe the chaos at the embassy as about 1,000 desperate Cambodians and 300 fearful westerners ran short of food and water.
According to several reports, the remaining French diplomats and nationals provoked fury by hogging the few bedrooms, standing on ceremony rather than cooperating, and dining on steak when the rest of the refugees slept outside and ate rice gruel, occasionally pork, and, finally, dogs and cats – the pets they had brought in with them
Jean Dyrac, the vice-consul left in charge, was plainly out of his depth. The Khmer Rouge refused to recognise the embassy compound as French soil, calling it a re-groupment centre for foreigners and demanding the handover of the “war criminals and traitors” – the seven senior Cambodian officials. Otherwise the food, water and electricity would be cut off, the communist guerrillas said.
No one knows how the Khmer Rouge knew that Ung Boun Hor and his colleagues, including the king’s cousin Sirik Matak, were in the embassy. Father Fran?ois Ponchaud, a French priest who was in the compound, said recently that he could “only suppose they were betrayed by a Frenchman, evidently, there was a leak from one of us”.
Do you have any doubt that the French have managed to become scum to every country they have landed on?
Even more disgusting is the fact that Pol Pot is actually looked up to by the ultra-left. Disgusting but no longer surprising. A ideology that embraces Che, Pol Pot, and Castro is a morally bankrupt philosophy, and one that should be extiniguished quite easily. But they continue on and on due mostly to those who crave power and their followers who lack any common sense.
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