The Cricket War by Tho Pham & Sandra McTavish

Author:Tho Pham & Sandra McTavish [Pham, Tho & McTavish, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Children's Fiction
ISBN: 9781525312052
Publisher: Kids Can Press
Published: 2023-10-03T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

South China Sea

June 1981

I watch the terrible scene, my heart hammering. People on their boat were swept overboard and drowned. I hear Mai’s voice in my head and try not to picture Lâm and An’s last moments.

Papa shouts orders. Cap Anamur’s siren blares, along with repeated blasts of the horn. I wince, but I can’t cover my ears. I grip the binoculars, bracing my feet as the massive ship turns swiftly and charges, surprisingly fast for its size.

The pirates, realizing Cap Anamur is chasing them, increase their speed. Then I spot two more pirate boats joining the one towing the Vietnamese vessel. The three boats look like a gang of bullies preparing to fight a smaller kid at school. Cap Anamur’s engines roar as they are pushed to their limit. Realizing the massive ship is gaining on them, the two latecomers break away and begin circling Cap Anamur.

Huấn shouts to me, “Keep an eye on the Vietnamese boat and call me if something happens to it.”

The crew arm themselves with parachute flares. They intend to fire them if the pirates attempt to board or attack our ship.

The German ship finally catches up to the first pirate boat, which floats a few meters from Cap Anamur, staring up as though it is taunting the Germans to fight.

Papa blasts the horn and siren again and again. The crew raise their arms, ready to fire flares at the pirates. The pirate boat responds by revving its engines. It appears as though a battle is about to begin, when suddenly one of the pirates unties the rope connecting the Vietnamese boat to his own. Then the pirate boat races toward the other two boats. The three vessels disappear into the horizon in search of their next victim, leaving behind the crumbling Vietnamese boat barely floating on the water.

“They’re safe!” I shout as I look down at the group of terrified faces on the boat below.

While the crew rushes into position, adrenaline pulses through my body. A few of them hurry down the rope ladder to the refugee boat below. They help the women and children board a special rescue platform in small groups. Each group is carefully pulled up to the deck.

Huấn leans over the railing and speaks through a megaphone. As the waves slap the side of the half-wrecked boat below, he calls out to the people still on board, “Stay seated and spread apart or you’ll tip!”

I should feel only happiness and relief as I watch dozens of women, children and men safely climb aboard. But I don’t. No one cheers or celebrates. One woman weeps and thumps her chest. The rest look exhausted and in shock. Even though the sky is blue, I feel like dark clouds hang over every Vietnamese boat escaping from our homeland. I wish that I had the power to remove the imaginary dark clouds from the sky. Looking around the group, my body quivers. What if we hadn’t saved them in time?

I wonder how many

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