With Bombs Whizzing in Air, Thousands Flee Thailand-Cambodia Border

The conflict is one of the deadliest clashes ever between the two countries. Thirty-four people have died, and over 165,000 have been displaced.

Living just two miles from an ancient temple that is claimed by both Cambodia and Thailand, Lamun Faithet is no stranger to being on the front lines of conflict.

She knows the routine well. In the event of an attack, she would go to the bunker in her village in the Thai province of Surin. The village chief would be the emergency warning system. That was how it worked in 2011, when she was forced to flee during another bloody clash between Cambodia and Thailand.

But this time things feel different.

Ms. Lamun, 68, is now one of more than 131,000 people in Thailand who have had to evacuate their homes. She has spent the past four days at a university campus in Surin, where a makeshift evacuation site has been set up.

Ms. Lamun said her house was the closest one in Surin to Prasat Ta Muen Thom, the temple where Cambodian and Thai troops first exchanged gunfire on Thursday. (Thais call the temple Prasat Ta Muen Thom, while Cambodians call it Prasat Ta Moan Thom.) For the first time ever, Ms. Lamun said, she was considering moving out of her home permanently.

“I thought everything was settled then,” she said, speaking of the previous conflict, which lasted from 2008 to 2011. “I didn’t think it would happen a second time.”

In recent days, Cambodia and Thai forces have been fighting each other in one of the deadliest border clashes ever between the two Southeast Asian neighbors. Since Thursday’s attacks, at least 34 people have died. In Cambodia, 35,000 people have fled their homes.

On Thursday morning, Ms. Lamun was preparing food for a Buddhist ceremony when she heard shots being fired.

“It was very intense, it was continuous for an hour,” said Ms. Lamun. “I could hear the sound of the bomb’s whistling — wheeeee — through the air. It really felt like I was in a war movie.”

Her village chief came on a motorbike and told everyone to pack, so they could take refuge in a bunker. After two hours, they moved to an evacuation center, but they were told they had to go elsewhere because the site was within range of Cambodia’s weapons.

She hitched a ride with fellow villagers to the university campus, where she now sleeps on straw mats, shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of people.

Just a day before, the governor of Surin had warned residents to stay at least 75 miles from the border after a report that the Cambodian Army was moving the PHL-03, a Chinese-made long-range multiple missile system, into the Oddar Meanchey Province of Cambodia. On Sunday, that became a major talking point all over Surin.

“This time, officials say they have a good weapon,” Ms. Lamun said, drawing a comparison with the 2011 conflict. “How did they get it? I’m very afraid now.”

The evacuees appeared relatively well taken care of. At makeshift aid distribution tables, there were cartons of instant noodles, chocolate biscuits, and even vanilla ice cream cones. In the center, a television was set up so people could watch the news.

Trucks containing mattresses arrived on Sunday afternoon. Students formed an assembly line to transport water bottles. Preschoolers, with no school to go to, jumped in a line.

Samban Manaesri, a rice farmer who was mopping her 11-year-old son’s forehead with a towel, said she was grateful for the supplies. Her son, lying on a straw mat, had been feverish for two days, but she had medication and a doctor on call.

Still, Ms. Samban, 46, said the conditions were not that comfortable because of the hundreds of people there.

“I just want the war to end as soon as possible, so I can go home,” she said.

Many people were still reeling from the trauma of Thursday’s attack. Loud sounds made people uneasy. A sudden thud when a garbage collector dropped a can caused a family to let out a collective “ohhhh.”

“I still panic,” said Thirawat Sabsuwan, 45, laughing in relief as he clutched his heart. “It’s terrifying because I don’t know what the sound is.”

His sister-in-law, Rattanapon Merntanu, who is six months pregnant, said she and her family started packing two months ago, when they heard Thailand would stop almost all border crossings except for essential needs. They said they had heard that Cambodia would attack in that situation.

“We were very certain this was going happen,” Ms. Rattanapon, 26, said.

But when Cambodia first fired its rockets early Thursday morning, Ms. Rattanapon was at her niece’s school watching a sports event. They fled into a school bunker — and never made it back home.

“Everything that I’ve packed is still there,” she said, wearing a donated pink dress. Earlier, she stood around a table, picking out clothes for her relatives.

As Ms. Rattanapon spoke, she and her relatives watched over a sleeping 4-month-old baby whose father is a Thai soldier and had been called for duty on Thursday to fight.

Like many people along the border, Ms. Rattanapon said, she never had any problem with Cambodians. She has fond memories of visiting a market that had Cambodian and Thai sellers next to each other.

Ms. Lamun, too, loved crossing into the Cambodian town of O Smach to visit a market. There, she would buy frogs and edible insects to stir-fry and make into a chili paste.

She did not know when that would happen again. Like many others, she had a bad feeling that she could be stranded for the long haul.

What she did know was that she would probably never feel safe again. “When it comes to these undefined areas, no one knows whose is whose,” Ms. Lamun said. “That means our security will never be certain.”

Phuriphat Dejsuphong contributed reporting from Surin.

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