Battambang Province, in northwestern Cambodia, is a land of thick forest and rough dirt roads, of rice fields and poor villages. It is also one of the most heavily mined areas in the world.

At a Red Cross rehabilitation center in Battambang, 17-year-old Niv Chhim was learning to walk with a new prosthesis for his left leg, which was partially blown off in a land mine explosion while he walked near his home. It was not the first time he had stepped on a mine.When he was just 12 years old, he was a soldier for the Khmer Rouge, the revolutionary Maoist guerrillas who, during their short rule in the 1970s, were responsible for the deaths of 1 million Cambodians. While out in the jungle, he tripped a land mine that blew off his right leg. Now, five years later, he is a double amputee: a poor, handicapped ex-soldier with an uncertain future, like so many others in this impoverished country.

If Niv's story is in any way unusual, it is only in the fact that he has survived two separate land mine explosions. In Cambodia, mine accidents are commonplace. It's no wonder. In a country the size of Missouri, it is estimated there are 6 million to 10 million land mines laid. That figure averages to about one mine per person.

In fact, Cambodia competes with Angola for the dubious distinction of having the highest proportion of amputees in the world, with one out of every 236 people missing a limb. "That's the story of Cambodia - it could be de-mined leg by leg," said Jo Nagel, a Frenchman who runs the Red Cross center, which has had more than 3,300 patients since it opened two years ago.

Land mines come in two distinct categories: anti-tank and anti-personnel. Athough anti-tank mines have much greater explosive power, they are still a lesser risk than anti-personnel mines. This is simply because they are fewer in number, they are much larger and therefore easier to spot and they require much greater pressure to trigger them. An anti-personnel mine is typically a palm-size, mostly plastic device that is triggered by a small amount of pressure - like that of a child.

Children are more likely to be killed by a mine because they are closer to the explosion. But anyone who survives the explosion and ensuing blood loss is still at risk from shock and infection. It can take hours, if not days, before victims get to a medical center, usually after a harrowing trip on someone's back, an ox cart, or (if they're lucky) on a small motorbike.

Although they do kill, anti-personnel mines are primarily designed to maim. The reason is a lesson in callous logistics: because an injured soldier requires assistance, he is a burden to his comrades. The result of such cold logic can be seen throughout the streets of Cambodia's capitol, Phnom Penh, where scores of amputees, mostly former soldiers, spend their days begging near entrances to hotels, restaurants and markets - anyplace where Westerners go.

Besides the millions of land mines, there is a countless number of live artillery and mortar shells, bombs and grenades, known as unexploded ordnance (UXO), that are strewn across the land after more than 25 years of fighting. Many of these are triggered accidentally, while many others are reused and given a second chance to kill. For example: in Cambodia during the Vietnam War, the United States dropped thousands of apple-size "cluster bombs," many of which never exploded. Now a generation later, they are used as mines, grenades or are fitted onto rockets.

Land mines are often called "silent soldiers" or "eternal sentinels" and it's easy to see why: they can lie in wait for generations, never sleeping and always ready to explode. In Cambodia they kill or injure 100 to 200 people a month.

It is a telling statistic that 80 percent of all land mine victims knew they were in a minefield. Why would so many people knowingly walk into one?

"Economic necessity forces them into areas that they know are dangerous," said Robin Biddulph, a member of the HALO Trust, a humanitarian organization that clears mines in hazardous areas.

People need to go into forests for food and wood, Biddulph explained, and because cows are so vital and costly, they will risk their lives to retrieve animals that have strayed into a minefield. Since young men, especially former soldiers, are expected to act bravely, villagers will rely on them to recover stray cows. Other times that job is the responsibility of children, who at age 6 or 7 begin to tend herds by themselves.

The majority of Cambodians live in rural areas, where, concurrently, most of the mines are found, and where government soldiers continue to fight Khmer Rouge guerrillas.

Mines are laid along travel routes, water and food sources, in forests and around villages. They are used to deny control or access of areas to opposing forces. Soldiers lay mines under trees that provide shade or bear fruit - anyplace where the enemy may come to rest. But trees that bear fruit and offer shelter from the sun also attract civilians. And a land mine makes no distinction between a soldier, a child or a farm animal.

Biddulph's voice filled with anger and frustration as he told one of many horrific stories that are so common here. "There was a pregnant woman in a small village who was chopping wood in back of her home. She accidentally hacked into an artillery shell with her machete. Now there are four children in the village without a mother."

The terror induced by mines makes them effective psychological weapons for those who have them. And for just a few dollars, land mines, along with a wide variety of other weapons, can be easily bought on the black market.

It is a cruel twist of fate that weapons that have helped to brutalize an entire society are now embedded in its culture. Land mines that were designed for warfare are now sometimes used to settle personal vendettas, territorial disputes and even lovers' quarrels.

The small town Mongkol Borei lies in the northwest province of Benteay Meanchay, a region, like Battambang, that is filled with Khmer Rouge strongholds. Thus, it is no surprise that the hospital there is burdened with a constant flow of mine victims, most of them government soldiers who have been fighting the guerrillas. A walk through the hospital's 16-bed army ward offered a clear picture of what happens when land mines do their job. All the beds were full of mostly young soldiers with missing limbs. In one bed a mother caressed her 20-year-old son, his face contorted with agony, while he clutched the bandage on what remained of his left leg.

In another bed lay Chon Sam Onn, who at 35 is 10 years above the average age of an amputee in Cambodia. He was visited by his wife and one of their two children. After stepping on a land mine, Chon lost both legs at midthigh and his rectum was destroyed, forcing him to rely on a colostomy bag, which rests on his stomach. Pain and discomfort sculpted his face, but he maintained a positive attitude. He said that following his rehabilitation he wants to study acting.

Over in the civilian ward of the hospital, 27-year-old Keo Ly rested, the stump below her left knee hanging over the edge of the bed. She had been standing in a group of people when the mine her husband was preparing to use for fishing accidentally exploded, killing three people and injuring five others. Among the dead were her husband and 4-year-old daughter.

In 1990, the HALO Trust began its first surveys of mine fields in northwestern Cambodia and it now operates four mine-clearing teams in Banteay Meanchay Province, and two others in Pursat Province. The obvious goal of de-mining is lowering the number of deaths and injuries, but it also increases the quality of life by clearing land for agriculture and development. This is especially important because of the hundreds of thousands of refugees that have recently returned from border camps in Thailand. The large number of minefields means they have fewer areas for resettlement.

Mine clearing is an extremely expensive, laborious and painstaking endeavor. By U.N. estimates, it costs an average of $1,000 to clear each mine. HALO de-miners, virtually all of them former soldiers, work in pairs to clear areas lane by lane, each one a meter wide. One man scans with his metal detector, listening carefully for any signal, while the other watches from a distance. Once a signal is heard, that second man uses a spade to locate the source of the signal. In case the source is a mine, the man always prods at a 30 degree angle, to avoid tripping the pressure detonator. Because of the intensity of the work the men regularly shift places.

Mines are typically destroyed where they are found, since it is safer than picking them up and moving them. Once a mine is found, an explosive charge is placed on top of it so when it is destroyed, it is simultaneously driven into the ground, decreasing the risk of shrapnel.

Hampered by heat and vegetation, the de-miners must watch for trip wires, booby traps and stacked mines. Since their four-wheel drive vehicles and expensive metal detectors are highly prized, the de-miners must also be wary of attacks from bandits and Khmer Rouge soldiers.

Graeme Goldworthy, a field officer with HALO who supervises the Cambodian de-miners, said there are strict procedures to ensure safety. Still, such a perilous job can never be completely safe. So far, HALO has suffered two casualties, neither of them fatal. Both men, one who lost an eye and the other a leg, still work for HALO, though not as de-miners.

Though it is very slow and tedious, the meter-stick and metal-detector method of mine clearance is the most thorough. For Goldworthy, the bottom line is simple: "We can't turn over a piece of land to a village and then have someone get hurt and say, `Sorry, we missed one.'"

In July of last year, the Mines Advisory Group, an organization that does mine clearance in Battambang Province, began an awareness program there to educate villagers about the dangers of mines.

"De-mining is too bloody slow," said a MAG spokesman, explaining the need for mines awareness. The underlying message of the program: Don't touch mines, just report them.

To get its message across, MAG has a troupe of five or six Cambodian "communicators" who travel to villages and put on multimedia shows. The troupe uses songs, short plays, posters, videos, dances, puppetry, lectures and ad-lib comedy to teach people mine identification, mine marking and how to safely get out of a mine field. One important lesson: Using a hoe is not a safe way to clear a minefield.

Presentations are treated like special events by the Cambodians, who show up in large numbers, frequently from neighboring villages. The troupe makes repeat performances to reinforce awareness, to get feedback on its programs and to gather new information about mine locations. "We promise villagers that if they have a mine problem, we'll deal with it," the spokesman said.

In schools, children hear lectures about mines and receive supplies, like notebooks and rulers, with mine warnings printed on them. The Ministry of Education has asked MAG for help in developing a curriculum specifically for mine awareness.

Along with various humanitarian organizations like the Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation and Physicians for Human Rights, MAG is also active in the global movement to ban the production, sale and distribution of land mines worldwide.

Last year, President Clinton extended to three years a moratorium on the export of anti-personnel mines from the United States. The president, however, does not support a complete ban on land mines.

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In June, Vermont Sen. Patrick J. Leahy introduced legislation to impose a one-year moratorium on the production of anti-personnel mines. He said he wants the United States to lead by example, encouraging other countries to halt their mine production.

When introducing the new legislation Sen. Leahy said, "If American children walking to school were getting their arms and legs blown off, you can bet we would have all 100 senators doing everything possible to stop it. That is what is going on all over the world today in country after country after country."

Still, though the United States is a leading producer of mines, it is only one of at least 40 countries that make them. And just as de-mining is a daunting task, it appears that so too is the effort to halt the proliferation of mines throughout the world.

In Cambodia, meanwhile, mines will continue to take casualties and impede development, well into the next century. And the children of today who are being taught, "Beware of Mines," will be teaching the same lesson to their grandchildren.

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