O.C. Man Recounts Ordeal in Vietnam : Freedom: Imprisoned for two years, Liem Tran worried he might never see his son and sister again.

For two years, Liem Quang Tran slept on a cold cement floor in a prison cell in Vietnam, with another cement slab as his pillow.

Daytime was almost as dark as night; the light from a single yellow bulb and a tiny opening in the cell door was so dim that Tran’s eyesight was permanently damaged. Twice-daily meals were a fist-sized bowl of rice with broth.

“I didn’t feel sadness, and I wasn’t scared,” Tran said Wednesday in his first full account of the ordeal since returning home the night before. “I worried about when I would see my son again.”

The 45-year-old Tran said that he was never physically abused but that the isolation and uncertainty of his fate were nearly intolerable. Imprisoned and convicted on charges that he tried to overthrow the government, the Santa Ana resident didn’t know when, if ever, he would see his son and older sister again.

Tran’s ordeal ended Nov. 2 when the Vietnamese government, under pressure from the U.S. State Department and tireless lobbying by Tran’s friends and relatives, released and deported him and a fellow activist, Tri Tan Nguyen of Houston. Tran arrived at Los Angeles International Airport on Tuesday afternoon and rushed into the open arms of his son, 16-year-old Vu Tran, and his sister, Nguyet Tran.

Wednesday, smoking a cigarette and sitting comfortably on a leather sofa in the Santa Ana home of a friend, where he will live with his son and sister, an exhausted and relieved Tran expressed thanks for the effort that won him his freedom.

“The greatest thing I’ve been able to enjoy [since my return] is my freedom, my freedom,” Tran said, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

Tran, an electronics technician who immigrated to the United States in 1975, was arrested Nov. 12, 1993, for his involvement in planning a pro-democracy symposium in Ho Chi Minh City. The conference was never held.

The symposium was sponsored by the Santa Ana-based Alliance for Democracy in Vietnam, an international organization headed by expatriate Vietnamese intellectuals and former military officers who work for human rights in the Communist-led country.

Tran, who has been a member of the alliance for more than a decade, was in Vietnam to visit his aging mother and volunteered to help with the conference. Two weeks before the scheduled event, nine participants, including Tran and Nguyen, were arrested.

Both men were imprisoned for 21 months before being tried and convicted in August. Tran was given a four-year sentence.

Secretary of State Warren Christopher took up their cause during meetings with Vietnamese officials in Hanoi in August and again last month in Washington.

Human-rights activists heralded the release of Tran and Nguyen, calling it a diplomatic gesture from the Vietnamese government, which seeks closer economic ties with the United States. But the action does not mean the Vietnamese government will rectify its dismal record on human rights, one activist said.

“Just today, two Vietnamese Communists were put on trial for criticizing the government and given prison sentences,” said Mike Jendrzejczyk, Washington director of Human Rights Watch/Asia. “We have to balance out the impact of that with the release of these two Americans.”

Rubbing his temples and wincing at his painful memories, Tran recalled Wednesday that he “struggled through days trying to forget that I was in prison.

“What drove me forward was thinking about my family in the U.S. and my fellow countrymen who were also imprisoned for trying to improve the economic and political circumstances in Vietnam.”

As for himself, he said, “I was mainly concerned about justice, whether the government would abide by their laws.

“They told me I would serve a four-year sentence; I knew that four years was indefinite. In Vietnam, the law and what is practiced are two very different things.”

For all his suffering--Tran’s hearing was also damaged and he lost a considerable amount of weight from his already small frame--Tran said his ordeal could not be compared to that of other political prisoners. Unlike himself, Tran said, they did not have the protection of U.S. citizenship and are still behind bars.

Even when he was in prison, Tran said, he was treated better than Vietnamese nationals. Tran was given a blanket, for example, while others were not.

“I have only suffered one-one-hundredth of what the people in Vietnam have endured,” he said.

Still, his eyes became watery when he thought about the two years he missed watching his son grow up. Father and son now share a bedroom in a friend’s house and look forward to the coming days, when they can catch up on lost time.

A reserved teen-ager, Vu Tran said that words could not describe the emotions he felt when he saw his gaunt father Tuesday at LAX. “I’m not one to show my feelings,” he said Wednesday morning before leaving for school. “I was glad he looked healthier than when I last saw him,” during a visit to the prison in September.

In the bedroom, a small, framed photo of the once-mustachioed Liem Tran sits on a wooden desk. For the past two years, the photograph served as a reminder of his father’s struggle and the hope that he would come home one day, Vu said.

Nguyet Tran, 56, said there were times when she lost all hope of her brother’s homecoming.

“There were days when I thought Vu would never have a father,” she said. “At times, I could feel it in my stomach that he might be home soon. But most times I feared for his life.”

Now that he is home, Liem Tran said, his primary objective is to rebuild his life by spending time with his son and sister. He may try to get his old job back and resume his efforts to promote democracy in Vietnam, he said. But he is barred from returning to the country for at least four years.

“If we can help our country, and Vietnam shows signs of improvement, I will return,” he said.