Before my arrival in South Korea, I only had some cursory information regarding this peninsula. I knew my uncle, who was a brilliant doctor, spent time here during the Vietnam War as he patched injured fighting boys up before sending them stateside. I knew my friend had done some time here when he was in the Army, and my other friend packed his bags and moved halfway around the world to here; a kind of “Go East young man;” manifesting his destiny. My aunt talked about how ginseng was peddled on the streets as a cure-all, and I watched the rise of Kia, Samsung, and Lexus from afar. Overshadowing them all by a few kilotons, of course, is the contentious relationship with the nuclear-armed North.
Most Americans in my generation and before know the television show M.A.S.H. that used the Korean War as a backdrop for sexy shenanigans and maudlin soliloquies. Younger ones know Dick Whitman’s to Don Draper’s transformation using the same backdrop. Beyond the glitz of show lights, the often forgot Korean War, was the first test of the new world order in the wake of World War II, a mere five years earlier. It was the first proxy war with a nuclear-backed detente in a series of them for the next 40 something years. Some might even call it the first domino in Truman’s theory of the same name. The war cost hundreds of thousands of people, including the family of my cousin’s wife’s grandmother.
When I got to Busan on the South-Eastern quadrant of South Korea, the presence of the UN forces, lead by America, was quite palatable. Streets were named after US states, some Western food chains were available to eat, and there were even a few imported beers like Budweiser. However, the most beautiful and haunting aspect was the only United Nations Cemetery in the world.
Korea was a colony of Japan starting in 1910 after the Japanese trounced the forces of Imperial Russia in the Russo-Japanese War ending in 1905. Then, as the Japanese thirst for expansion grew in the interwar years, the Imperial Japanese grip tightened and the same dirty deeds done in the colony of Manchuria; they did on the peninsula. Like how after World War II, Germany was divided into East and West, Korea was divided into North and South along the 38thParallel; left in utter shambles. The Communist Chinese and the Soviet Union supported the rule of Kim Il-Sung, the father of modern-day North Korea, while the newly created United Nations backed the South. In the early days of the Korean War, with the consent of the Soviet Union and China, Kim Il-Sung decided he wanted to expose the rest of the peninsula to the wonders of communism. Seemingly unabated, the Communist forces pushed all the way to the Busan Perimeter as the UN was holding meetings to try and figure out what to do. It was in Busan where the UN forces made their stand and began repelling the Northern army. As such, it was safe ground to start burying their dead. While it was a UN war, with nations from 22 countries that comprised the UN Command in both warriors and aid, it was the Americans that took the most casualties by a foreign army with Koreans, of course, having the most of any participant.
Walking the solemn grounds of the cemetery while a light rain fell, it was a stark realization that even after years of war, millions of deaths, and unprecedented destruction, some men’s nature is always seeking more: more land, more resources, more power. It is up to those who understand it to be vigilant and be the stalwarts against it. Their names like many others are etched in stone, in metal, and on the hearts of the people they liberated.
Traveling to Seoul was like stepping into a different world as compared to Busan. While there were some clues that a military standoff was occurring, like gas masks in the subway, it appeared to be just another big frenetic city. There were restaurants, temples, discos, and bars all teeming with people. I guess they have just gotten used to it.
Immaculately kept, beautiful porcelain-skinned women with big, fake… eyelashes walked the streets, which is something I was not expecting. In the other Asian countries I had visited thus far, the women seemed more dower, downplaying their femininity. But not in Seoul. I can understand more clearly why my friend decided to move halfway across the world.
Going to the Demilitarized Zone was an experience that I will never forget. As someone that has studied conflicts, war, and competing ideologies, it was fascinating to be in a place so close to the “other side.” Again, much like back in Seoul, being near an enemy was not such a big deal. If they can have a Popeye’s Chicken restaurant about four miles from enemy territory, then it is pretty obvious the bullets are not flying. None the less, there was danger as there were posted signs warning of landmines throughout the area. After the war, the South knew they were a deterrent while the North knew the next time they invaded, they would need to burrow like moles, or the Viet Cong, to avoid them.
Looking out over the stark No-Mans-Land, a term coined from the War to End All Wars, there was such a contrast between the haves and the have-nots that this border divided. The crown of the south, Seoul, has its futuristic brilliance of thriving commercialism: well-fed, tall, and beautiful people peacefully walk the streets while taking breaks from their jobs in the fields of bleeding-edge technology, spending their wages in gigantic department stores. While the Northern capital of Pyongyang has a few buildings housing the politically connected with reliable electricity. There is no comparison of how well the people live in the South, but even living well harbors resentment with the have-little-want-more crowd.
My desire before I arrived in this country was that the works of President Donald Trump and Chairman Kim Jong-un would make the world a safer place, finally ending the War that is still not over. Maybe these two leaders could set aside generations of mistrust to actually get work done. Although, at the time of this writing, it looks like those ideals will need to be on hold for a while. The dream of reunification is still possible, however, but only after those with the scars of the war carved into their psyches have passed on. As I was talking to our guide at the DMZ, a young woman named Sue, she said her dream was to travel from Seoul to Spain on their completed train line with the North. This would connect South Korea, her Isle of Land – comprised of water on three sides and a currently uncrossable border, to the rest of the world. I asked her when she thought this would happen. The spark of idealism usually contained within the eyes of a 20’s-ish young woman went out. She replied morosely, “when I am a very old woman. If even then.”