This is a dramatization of events that, according to testimony, took place
in a free-fire zone north of Saigon in 1969. An investigation by Army authorities
failed to turn up the 8mm film that allegedly had been made, and the soldiers
involved were never charged with any crime.
The film opened on a scene clearly somewhere in Vietnam; in the distance, a few straw hutches could be seen burning. A plume of smoke was rising slowly into the blue sky. The color was good, and either the man taking it had either used a tripod or he had very steady hands; it looked reasonably professional.
In the foreground stood two smiling soldiers and an evidently captive Vietnamese peasant girl. Each man held one of her arms; she was dressed in a loose black shirt and equally baggy black pants, and her face could not be seen. Her head was down, her hair hanging.
Reaching over, one of the men, a corporal, pushed the girl's head up. She looked desperate as she stared at the camera. She was just a teen-ager, but she was extremely attractive, full-lipped and large- eyed. She wasn't even trying to escape; she stood passively, her huge eyes taking in everything, as two more uniformed men entered the picture, one wearing a sergeant's stripes.
Grinning, the sergeant put his rifle on his shoulder and grabbed the lapels of her blouse. With one quick downward movement, he ripped it open, then tore the sleeves so they could get it off her. There was a pause while all of the men fondled her firm high breasts, teased her small dark nipples. One of the men started tugging at her pants from the back, and soon they were sliding down her muscular but shapely legs. Her exposed body was if anything more beautiful than her face. Her dusky skin looked so smooth it almost didn't seem real.
Naked, she was pushed to her knees on the ground, the sergeant holding her tightly by her hair. Turning her toward him, he unzipped his pants and, grabbing one of her small hands, stuffed it just inside.
The girl glanced up at him, then pushed her hand into his pants, working his already-stiffening penis out. She stared at it for just a second, then began to run her tongue around the surface of the glans. He pushed forward, and his organ slid fully into her mouth. The camera zoomed closer, watching the penis slip between her lips. As it did, one of the men put a hand between her legs, felt around with his fingers. His lips moved, but the film was silent.
The sergeant, holding onto the girl's head, shook his own and mouthed words. Reaching down with his free hand, he roughly massaged her breast, pinched her nipple hard. She winced a little, but continued to concentrate on his penis.
After only seconds, he threw his head back and stiffened. The camera zoomed in again as his penis pulsed, as the hot semen sprayed into her mouth. She swallowed most of it, but some managed to escape, running out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin. The cameraman maintained a close-up view, recording all of it.
As the sergeant pulled out, the other men pushed the girl to the ground, rolling her onto her back. One of them already had his pants off and he dived onto her, forcing her legs wide open as the camera moved behind him, then pushing his erection inside her.
The corporal knelt beside her head, thrusting his own erection toward her mouth. She resisted momentarily, but finally gave in, allowed him to shove his penis between her lips. The last man just watched, his eyes bright and a smile on his face.
The other man slammed his hips against hers almost violently, jerking her body back and forth; after only seconds he pressed hard into her, evidently depositing his semen deep inside her body. As he climbed to his feet, the last solider took his place. The girl reached up to him with her hand, almost as if welcoming him.
As he began pumping away, the corporal started having his orgasm; his penis slipped from between her lips, his semen spraying onto her face and neck. The camera caught the flying liquid, caught the action as he brought it back to her mouth and let it drain onto her tongue. He then got up, pulled his pants up, and watched until the last soldier had his orgasm. The girl even clutched this last man's shoulders, holding him to herself as if he were her lover.
For a few minutes, the men left the girl laying on the ground while they readjusted their clothes. She didn't move; she just looked up at them. Semen was smeared on her thighs, her breasts, and her face; the camera played over her body close-up, recording it. Her expression no longer looked desperate; she appeared hopeful, as if she believed that having satisfied the soldiers, they would not harm her further.
Glancing from one to another, she seemed to be waiting for them to leave, seemed to believe they were finished with her. They were not; the sergeant knelt between her legs as if to have intercourse with her, but he didn't remove or even unzip his pants.
The corporal took the girl's hands, pressed them to the ground; another soldier grabbed her slender ankles. They posed for a moment; then the sergeant reached down to his belt and pulled out his survival knife.
The girl stared up at it, wide-eyed. Her body arched, her lips were moving rapidly; it was obvious she was begging. The sergeant could be seen to snap a reply. Theatrically, he raised his knife over her bare and heaving breasts, and again he held his pose for a moment, grinning at the camera. The girl was obviously shrieking, straining against the hands that restrained her.
But she was ignored, and the sergeant stabbed his knife into her right breast, striking her just a little inside her nipple. It was quite obvious that he'd pulled the blow, that he hadn't used anything like his full strength.
As her face and body went tight, he held his pose rigidly. Only an inch or so of the blade had pierced her, but blood was already beginning to appear around the steel. It was being duly recorded by the camera; the cameraman backed off to get them both, then did a close-up of the blade piercing her flesh and another of her agonized face.
Finally, bearing down, the sergeant started pushing the knife on in.
The two soldiers watching were apparently yelling, urging him on; the girl was obviously screaming, her arms jerking as the blade slipped on through her breast. Much more blood was coming, running off her side and onto the ground. The camera zoomed in for a close-up of the bloody froth on her lips.
Grinning boyishly, the sergeant put both hands on the butt of the the knife handle and rested his full weight on it. The girl squirmed as the remainder of the six-inch blade disappeared into her chest.
The camera came close again; she was gasping for breath, and blood was dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were unfocused, opening and closing, and her arms and legs jerked spasmodically. The soldiers talked among themselves for a moment, until finally, the girl looked as if she was aware of them again. Her lips moved once more, she seemed to be pleading.
They laughed at her, and, as the camera watched, the sergeant began to slowly pull the knife out of her chest.
Her skin clung to it as he pulled, as if it didn't want to let it go. Almost gently, he held her breast with his left hand as he pulled. Much more blood was pumping out now, but the girl seemed less near death. Still gasping air, she watched them with terrified eyes.
Some more words passed among the soldiers; then the sergeant laughed, scooted back a little, and poked her flat and satiny belly with his blade. He moved it around a little, pushing lightly here and there, and finally letting it come to rest touching a spot midway between her navel and her pubic hair.
The corporal said something; then. Keeping his knee on the girl's wrist, he leaned over and began running his hands over the girl's stomach. His expression denoted approval. The soldier holding her ankles joined him, and she took the opportunity to jerk one of her hands free. But she was too weak from the chest wound to do much, and soon, the corporal had her flailing arm back on the ground.
She raised her head, said something; the sergeant laughed, answered her. As he spoke, he lightly ran the tip of the knife around in a little circle. Then, with a flourish, he plunged it in.
Her eyes snapped shut and her whole body went rigid. Blood rose up around the blade, which was half-buried in her belly. The camera zoomed in; after it again recorded the blade piercing her flesh, the sergeant once again began pushing on the knife; The girl was screaming, but it was obvious that no great effort was required to slip the steel on into her body. As her blood gushed, the men stepped away from her, leaving the knife standing in her belly.
Squirming and crying, she reached down and grabbed the handle of the knife as if to pull it out, but she could not. Blood poured from her, spreading out under her, as the camera moved between the wound and her face. After quite a while, one of the soldiers bent down, pushed her hands away from the knife, and started to pull it free, ripping upward with it as it came. The others laughed and applauded.
Raising her head, the girl stared at him with her luminous eyes, watching the knife slip free from her body. Blood, mixed with clear fluids and the brown of fecal material, flowed freely. It ran between her legs, pooled on the ground.
The camera came in close to her face; she looked directly into the lens. Oddly, her face was relaxing, as if the pain was leaving her. Her eyes moved, evidently back to one of her tormentors. More than anything else, she looked confused, bewildered.
Slowly, the camera scanned down the length of her body, stopping to study the neat wound in her breast, then again to look at the larger and more ragged one in her abdomen. Blood pulsed from both steadily, coloring most of her torso red.
Then it pulled back once more, watching while she pulled her legs up and moved her arms weakly while the soldiers stood by iscussing something. After they'd finished talking, the sergeant bent down to the girl and grabbed both her arms, pulling her up to a sitting position. As soon as she was up, she vomited blood onto her legs. The men laughed.
Then, as the camera zoomed in close to her dazed face, one of the soldiers lifted her hair. While the sergeant held her chin firmly, the soldier drew his own knife and quickly sliced her right ear off. When it was free, he held his trophy up to the camera. The scene changed, her hair was again pulled up, and the other soldier cut off her other ear. She wasn't screaming now; she was merely twitching as the man sawed roughly into her flesh. To judge from her facial expression, she wasn't really aware of what they were doing.
The sergeant released her, and she sank slowly back to the ground. Lying on her side, her body trembling, she looked up at them. Her stomach pulsed, her mouth opened, and a large mass of blood surged out. She no longer looked confused; her eyes were only half-open, and she looked like someone relaxing, like someone about to go to sleep for the night. Grinning, the corporal knelt beside her and posed for the camera, his knife lifted above her exposed side. She turned her head, looked at him blankly. And continued to look as he drove his blade into her side.
Her body jerked as blood spurted from this new wound, but her expression didn't change. She seemed removed, distant from what they were doing to her, as if she understood that there was no longer any possibility of her survival, as if she had already given herself over to death. She was looking at the knife in her side, but she didn't act as if she felt it.
The corporal yanked the blade out, handed it to one of the other soldiers as they rolled her onto her back again. The soldier with the knife bent over her, looked down at her. Her eyes focused on his face, and, weirdly, she gave him a childlike smile. He frowned, hesitated; someone slapped his back, and he responded by stabbing her again, in her stomach. Her body spasmed violently at this new insult, then suddenly relaxed. The camera looked at her face. Her lips were parted, her eyes were wide open and glazing rapidly.
Then, finally, the camera drew back, taking in the whole scene. The men stood in a line beside the
still and bloody corpse, waving and grinning into the lens until the film ran out.