The last time Chaw Su saw her husband was in March, when he was forcibly conscripted to fight for the army in Myanmar’s civil war.
Four months later she discovered he had been killed on the front lines.
“We were always poor and struggling,” she says. “But life was much more bearable with him.”
The 25-year-old widow, who depended on her husband as a breadwinner, now has three young children to care for.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the sources.
In February, Myanmar’s military regime, known as the junta, announced compulsory military service, meaning all men aged 18 to 35 and women aged 18 to 27 would be forced to serve for up to two years.
Since the 2021 coup that overthrew the democratically elected government of Aung San Suu Kyi, the junta has faced uprisings on multiple fronts – including from volunteer People’s Defense Forces (PDFs) and ethnic armed groups. That uprising has since escalated into a full-blown civil war.
Last year marked a turning point, as the junta saw a new wave of attacks from insurgents that have since pushed the military government to breaking point. As a result, up to two-thirds of the country, which has seen decades of military rule and oppression, came under the control of resistance groups.
The increasingly embattled junta responded in part by pushing ahead with mandatory military service, despite warnings from experts that it could worsen the country’s civil conflict. The first training started in April.
‘I was completely crazy’
In July, Chaw Su received a call from her husband, one of two men from their village sent for training.
He told her he had been deployed to Karen state, where some of the most intense fighting between the junta and ethnic armed groups took place.
“He said he would be sent to the front line for two weeks and that he would call me when he returned to base,” Chaw Su told the BBC. “It was the first and last message I received from him.”
In late July, a military officer called to inform Chaw Su that her husband was dead.
“I was completely crazy. The officer tried to comfort me with his words, but I felt that my life was over.”
Like many others, Chaw Su was promised a salary for her husband’s service, but she claimed she received only 70,000 kyats (about $21) from the village official when her husband was first drafted.
After the first payment, months passed without any financial support.
The military says conscripts are entitled to pay and compensation for death in the line of duty, just like full-rank soldiers. But junta spokesman Major General Zaw Min Tun told the BBC there could be “delays if the required documents are incomplete”.
Across Myanmar, conscripted soldiers – often untrained and unprepared – are sent to conflict zones with little support. Their families often remain in the dark about their whereabouts.
Soe Soe Aye, a widow in her sixties, has not received word from her son, who was drafted six months ago. She says he had no desire to serve in the military.
“[My son] joined the army to feed his mother,” she adds tearfully. “I regret letting him go.”
Now she struggles with ill health and depends on her youngest daughter to support their household. But she tries to remain hopeful.
‘I just want to see my son. I don’t have enough strength to face this.’
‘I hated the army even more’
Many young Burmese have taken drastic measures to resist the conscription order.
Kan Htoo Lwin, a 20-year-old boy from Yangon, the commercial center of Myannmar, was recruited along with thirty others and trained for three months.
He says the training was grueling and they were threatened that if anyone tried to escape, their homes would be burned down.
“After training, I hated the military even more,” he says.
While traveling to the front lines in the eastern part of the country, Kan Htoo saw an opportunity to escape with two others when their convoy stopped halfway.
“We ran when it got dark, while they were doing security checks. We didn’t stop until nightfall,” he recalls. “At one point we were exhausted and stopped to rest. We took turns sleeping and keeping watch.”
At dawn, the three young men hitched a ride with a truck driver and reached Aung Ban, a township in southern Shan State. Here Kan Htoo joined a PDF, one of many resistance groups that have grown as more young people, disillusioned with the military junta, take up arms.
The other two men are currently in hiding, Kan Htoo said. For security reasons, he does not want to reveal what they are doing now.
‘It’s hard to explain my struggle’
Although men have been the primary target of the conscription effort, women have also been affected.
Zue Zue, a 20-year-old from Yangon, gave up her dream of becoming a Chinese translator to join the Special Operation Force (SOF), a unit within the PDFs.
“Now my goal is to end this era of military dictatorship and make peace for our generation,” she told the BBC.
While Zue Zue chose to stay, others have fled the country.
Engineer Min Min left for Thailand when conscription began. He now resides there on a teaching visa, but claims he has struggled to find legal work matching his qualifications in Bangkok.
Many who flee to Thailand, like Min Min, end up in low-paid jobs. Thai authorities have also become stricter in catching illegal migrants, with many now facing deportation if caught.
Min Min worries that when his visa expires, he will have to stay in the country illegally.
“I’m worried about the cost of living,” says the 28-year-old. “I have no choice but to find manual labor jobs.”
He also says priority is given to Thai nationals, whose rights are protected, while Thai entrepreneurs often exploit migrants working illegally.
“I have also seen Burmese engineers working illegally and paid only about 12,000 Thai baht ($355), comparable to the salary of migrant workers,” he says.
Back in Myanmar, Chaw Su now works odd jobs in the village and barely earns enough to feed her children.
“It’s hard to explain to other people the struggle I’m going through,” she says.
