The Last Executioner (9 page)

That afternoon Thanoochai’s mother left with her son’s body, including his newly washed shoes. She was a good woman and kept begging her son’s victims to see into their hearts if they could forgive her son. She was going to cremate the body and wanted Thanoochai to feel in the consuming flames, the goodness and forgiveness emanating from everyone he had hurt which would fill him with regret and sorrow for his criminal ways. A parent’s love can be the purest love there is; no matter what a child does he is forgiven and still fiercely loved.

***

It troubles me still that I was driven to stuffing that handkerchief into Thanoochai’s mouth but I don’t think there was anything else I could have done. It had the desired effect of stifling his wrath, which allowed us to tie him to the cross. Once the prisoner is firmly secured he usually goes quiet. My priority was to speed up the process—the longer it took the more worked up he became. Also it is not fair to increase the stress of an already tense execution team. The situation is bad enough and no one takes their duty lightly. We are not proud to be involved in the ending of someone’s life—it is simply part of our job. The prison had received a summary execution order from the government about these three men and we were told to carry it out immediately.

The summary execution order no longer happens in Thailand. Nowadays the prisoner has a chance to fight his case in court and prove his innocence to a judge. Even when it did, during the rule of General Thanom, the government only got involved in cases that had particularly shocked the nation or threatened national security. The two murdered husbands I mentioned, Sanan and Boonyarid, had done no harm to anyone. They had merely called attention to pick pockets and for this they lost their lives in the most cowardly and callous fashion.

***

On 20 June 1972, the day after the men had been executed, journalists from
Thairath
, the big Thai newspaper, went to interview Boonyarid’s parents. His father had left for work but his mother told them that they were both glad that the government had acted speedily in punishing the killers. The family had received hundreds of letters of condolences, including one from General Thanom himself.

Prom, Sanan’s wife, received lots of donations in the post to make up for the loss of her husband. She was also glad that the killers had been dealt with so efficiently. She had worried that they would not be punished at all. However, she did say that she would pray for the three men and send her forgiveness to them.

An eye for an eye—Personally, I think that’s the way it should be. There are some people who will never see the error of their ways; who would not benefit from years in prison, they would go back out into the world and kill again. The death penalty is not the perfect solution but I cannot think of a perfect alternative. Some people are just evil to the core. As you can see from the reactions of Boonyarid’s and Sanan’s families’ people want the murderers of their relatives to pay the ultimate price, the same one that their loved one had paid. I remember once being asked by a victim’s mother if she could shoot the guy herself. Is this just a Thai thing?

Chapter 8

Not all of the inmates sentenced to death were common criminals or murderers, and I found myself at times involved in the execution of people caught up in political causes, but as part of terrorist groups, or even involving corruption within the State. In the end though, if they killed innocent people, they usually found themselves up in front of me.

On 28 January 1977, in the Aranyapratade District of Prajeenburi Province, police officers arrested five men; Mun Boonprasert, Thianchai Thongyoo, Somjai Jantra, Yoo Jark and Suheng Saekoo. They had led a group of Cambodian soldiers to attack three defenceless Thai villages and burn them to the ground. 28 Thais lost their lives. It was all part of a big criminal operation involving corrupt police and customs officers. Guns, bullets and explosive devices had been smuggled out to Cambodian soldiers, along with top secret information about the Thai Army, and also to a terrorist group in the Wattananakorn District. Illegal substances and stolen goods were also being exported out of the country.

The arrests were the result of a lot of investigation and patience on the part of the police. This was a serious breach of trust by those in uniform. Not surprisingly, a summary execution order was issued by the Prime Minister Thanin Kraivichian on 13 June 1977. The following is an excerpt:

‘These men are a threat to national security and have sabotaged peace among Thai citizens. Therefore it is necessary to act quickly and confront this threat for the sake of our peaceful society. Guided by Section 21 of the Constitution, and with the approval of the Cabinet and Council, the Prime Minister orders that the following men be punished by execution; Mun Boonprasert, Yoo Jark, Somjai Jantra. Suheng Saekoo is sentenced to life imprisonment. Since 15-year-old Thianchai Thongyoo is a juvenile, and has co-operated with the police in custody he is to be shown leniency and imprisoned for just five years. The Ministry of Interior must deliver this order immediately.’

That meant it was time for my team to go to work. At 10.30pm, 13 June, the Governor of Prajeenburi, Direk Sodsatid, summoned Han Pansomboon, then Superintendent of Bang Kwang, and Chaleaw Sithiprasert, then Superintendent of Prajeenburi Provincial Prison. After a brief meeting they decided that the executions would take place in the Kabinburi district prison. The police were informed and they contacted the soldiers holding the convicts in a camp in Aranyapratade District with instructions to bring them to Kabinburi. However, the Governor was then informed by officers who had reached the district prison that it wasn’t suitable for the executions; it lacked the adequate space required. The decision was quickly taken to use the prison in Prajeenburi instead.

The following morning almost 100 officers guarded the new location and were kept busy dispersing the crowds that tried to gather at the front of the prison. As usual they were not going to be permitted to witness the execution so they did the next best thing and handed their cameras to the police, imploring them to take pictures for them. At 2.50am the Bang Kwang execution team arrived in two vans at Prajeenburi. This included the Superintendent, Songwut Arsachai, who was heading the team and would perform the flag duties; the executioner Prathom Kruepeng, and me, in my new role as the gun adjuster. We had all travelled together from Bang Kwang and it felt like a road-trip. The journey took six hours, having left Bang Kwang at approximately 9pm and making several food stops. The conversation ran from general topics to going over the details of the execution; it was crucial that everything went smoothly since this was our first job away from home, and we were representing our prison. We were brought to where the execution would take place outside—at the back wall of the building, near a pond. About an hour later the Chaplain, Phrakroovijid Suphasunggarn, arrived to perform the last rites. He was followed a short while later by the convoy of police and soldiers who were escorting the three condemned men.

While I was still an escort I had shown an interest in the gun itself. I always like to know how things work; even now, I don’t understand why people my age are not computer literate. My generation tends to shy away from such things, even touching them, reckoning they have lasted long enough without using one, whereas I signed up for courses and am quite proud today of my skills. So it was with the equipment at work. After one execution, a while ago, I had passed by the room in order to deliver some papers and spied Sawaeng inside cleaning the gun. I wandered in and found myself helping him. I think he was touched by my interest and took the time to teach me about all the different parts—how to load it, lock it and clean it. He was the one who emphasized to me how the onus to ensure a speedy death for the prisoner, lay squarely on the shoulders of the guy who adjusts the gun and lines it up for the shooter. He started to let me clean the gun after a shooting and gradually the machine was as familiar to me as it was to him. So it was a natural progression when Sawaeng reached retirement that my name was put forward to take his place. Knowledge is power and I always urge my kids to learn, learn, learn.

***

At 5am the registrar, Jaran Prasong-ngern, and the official photographer, Prasit Gongpermpul, commenced their duties. Finger prints and photos were taken of the convicts for police records. Then the execution order was read to them. They made no response as they listened and then signed their name to it. They were offered pens and papers but refused them, explaining to the officers that they had no possessions to leave to anyone. At 5.15am they sat on the floor and listened to the monk perform his absolutions. I was told that Mun Booprasert had already broken down once, screaming in fear and panic, but the escorts managed to calm him down and now he looked as impassive as his two friends. The escorts had given the men 50 baht each so that they could make their last merit with the Chaplain and ask for forgiveness.

At 5.40am two escorts carried Mun to the cross first. He was firmly secured and the screen with the target depicted on it was pulled across. I walked to the gun and pointed it squarely at the white square. I loaded 15 bullets into it; 15 was the required amount to put in per person but rarely would they all be needed. I turned back the wheel of the gun stand to lock the gun in position and then stepped away to the side. Prathom took his place over the gun and waited for the flag to be lowered. Nine bullets were fired into Mun, who died instantly. The doctor checked his pulse and retinas, and confirmed him to be dead as Prathom moved away and I retrieved the gun’s magazine and counted how many bullets had been used.

At 6.10am the second man, Yoo, wished his friend good luck and bid him goodbye. The escorts brought him out, leaving a much stressed Somjai behind. He asked his escort for a cigarette and his hand trembled as he took it. As he smoked the tears began to flow.

‘I’m innocent sir, I really am. A police man’s son did this, not me, but the police beat me so badly that I had to sign the confession. I deliver oil, that’s all I do. I didn’t know anything about it, you must believe me.’

At 6.20am Prathom saluted Yoo and pulled the trigger, and six bullets took the criminal’s life. It was now Somjai’s turn. As he was brought to the cross he cried out to everyone;

‘I’m innocent. I’m no weapon smuggler—I deliver oil for a living. I had nothing to do with any of this.’

His escort blindfolded him and tied him quickly to cross. Yoo was upset but he didn’t put up a struggle. When the screen was pulled across I walked to the gun to load it and put it in position. But something was wrong. I had put the 15 bullets in but I couldn’t unlock the gun to move it. It was stuck. I stared at the machine in bewilderment. Ampan Janjui, my Bang Kwang colleague who was a gun expert, appeared beside me but he couldn’t get the gun to move either.

Our Superintendent hissed at us to use the spare gun that we had brought with us. It had already been assembled just in case we needed it. I quickly loaded 15 bullets into it and went to unlock it. It was stuck too. I could not believe it. Ampan and I looked at one another as the onlookers gasped and began to murmur their incredulity. Some of the officers thought it must be a supernatural power sending a sign; I just thought there was something wrong with the gun. I lifted if from the stand and carefully examined it. I could find absolutely nothing wrong. I had expected to find a bullet stuck but no, everything was fine. Now what?

Suddenly Dokrung Wongnarong, an experienced escort, had an idea and went back to Somjai to search him thoroughly. He found a relic of a famous Buddhist monk hidden in Somjai’s right armpit. In Thailand you can buy relics or protective charms from the likes of spirit doctors, trance mediums and monks. ‘Phra Khreuang’ are Buddha pendants or portraits of famous monks.

‘What is this coin, lil’ bro? Where did you get it?’

Somjai replied that it was ‘Luangpho Daeng’s coin sir, my mother gave it to me.’

Dokrung saluted the sky and cut the rope that tied the coin to Somjai’s arm. He brought the relic over to the Execution Supervision Committee.

I tried to unlock the gun again. I aimed the gun away and pulled the lever. One shot was fired. I placed the gun back on the stand and adjusted it. Prathom took over from me. He saluted Somjai and fired the gun. Nine bullets were fired. The escorts untied his body. The fingerprints of the three men were taken again, and then the bodies were cleaned and put aside for the families to collect them. But nobody turned up to claim them. Police officers explained to me later that the three families were Cambodian and lived in Thailand, and they were probably too afraid to come pick them up.

After the work was done, the staff at Prajeenburi treated us very well and laid on a meal for us: tom yum koong and spicy salads. I was proud to be sharing a table with my superiors and really felt like I was an important and appreciated member of a team.

Later in Bang Kwang the gun sticking caused concern and there was a meeting of the ‘suits’. It was decided that our equipment needed to be updated. Noppakoon Tanutis was a gun expert who wrote a column for the
Ban Muang
newspaper. He and Tawee Choosap, Vice Director of DOC, made the crucial decision about what would replace our old gun. The Bergmann MP 34/1 with a size nine parabellum had served us well from 1935 to 1984. Our new gun was to be the HK MP-5 9 parabellum with a silencer and this was the last gun to be used until 2003, when lethal injection would become the instrument of execution. Furthermore I was one of three officers who were appointed to receive the new gun and learn how to use it at the Armed Forces Security Centre. At least the silencer would offer a little mercy to the guy waiting his turn. The Bergmann was very loud, and the bang usually freaked out the second guy if there was more than one execution. Now I could even check the gun was properly aimed by trying it out a couple of hours before the execution took place, something that I could never have done with the blasted Bergmann, unless I wanted to cause a riot.