The war children, born in 1950 after the outbreak of the Korean War (1950-1953) in the early hours of June 25, are turning 61 this year (I should say 62 in accordance with Korean customs). A city of rubble has since become a modern, sophisticated metropolis. A river that once flowed with blood is now rich with life again. In Seoul’s mountains, smoke and fire have been replaced with green once more. Koreans built an economic and industrial powerhouse literally from ashes.
As the war scars quickly faded, so did their memories of the war. Today, less than 20 percent of the population experienced the war and that will drop further in the next decade. The generations unfamiliar with war will be left behind to debate and deconstruct the tragedy with political and ideological impunity.
In commemoration of the anniversary of the start of the war, film studios have churned out special features and movies. Reproductions of war scenes dominate newspapers and television channels—neighbours killing neighbours, massacres, bombardment and final farewells. These trigger renewed pain and grief among the generation that lived through the war, but to the post-war generations they are nothing more than well-plotted tales. Unlived history is just a tragic drama. To the younger generations born after the country realized its 'rags-to-riches miracle', the war of six decades ago is a historical event and turning point they learn about from textbooks.
Modern Koreans have no interest in their war, pointed out Andrew Salmon, who covered the two Koreas for The Times and wrote To the Last Round, a vivid account of the bloody battle between the British 29th Infantry Brigade and China People’s Liberation Army (人民解放军, Rénmín Jiěfàngjūn) along the Imjin River (臨津江, 림진강, Imjingang). The British journalist, despite being a foreigner, is passionate about reflecting upon and remembering the valiant heroism of his countrymen on Korean soil, something that has been forgotten by the Koreans themselves. His remarkable book takes readers to the steel storm of the battlefield, imprinting in their minds the names of every brave British soldier who fought desperately and died in a stranger’s land.
On the night of April 22, 1951, Britain’s 29th Infantry Brigade formed a perimeter at the lower part of the Imjin River to defend the key route to Seoul from the human tsunami (津波) of People’s Liberation Army. Upstream, the American soldiers barely escaped alive, but the British together with a Belgian battalion kept up the fight against 130 000 Chinese soldiers led by Gen. Peng Dehuai ( 彭德怀, 1898-1974) along the Imjin River. The British lost half of their men. Salmon retells the epic tale, chronicling the near-death moments for each of the veterans of the allied forces. The 29th ‘Glosters’ Brigade exhausted their ammunition after firing all night and despite the awesome, endless flow of Chinese human bombs, each carrying a grenade. The Glosters desperately kept their heads down to avoid the cascade of artillery and soldiers. They had no time to brood about what they were fighting for. The soldiers faced death amid swarms of enemies racing down into the smoke-filled valley, leaving the corpses of their fallen comrades behind on the hilltop. Since that day, these young foreigners have been forever tied to the Korean land.
As the war scars quickly faded, so did their memories of the war. Today, less than 20 percent of the population experienced the war and that will drop further in the next decade. The generations unfamiliar with war will be left behind to debate and deconstruct the tragedy with political and ideological impunity.
In commemoration of the anniversary of the start of the war, film studios have churned out special features and movies. Reproductions of war scenes dominate newspapers and television channels—neighbours killing neighbours, massacres, bombardment and final farewells. These trigger renewed pain and grief among the generation that lived through the war, but to the post-war generations they are nothing more than well-plotted tales. Unlived history is just a tragic drama. To the younger generations born after the country realized its 'rags-to-riches miracle', the war of six decades ago is a historical event and turning point they learn about from textbooks.
Modern Koreans have no interest in their war, pointed out Andrew Salmon, who covered the two Koreas for The Times and wrote To the Last Round, a vivid account of the bloody battle between the British 29th Infantry Brigade and China People’s Liberation Army (人民解放军, Rénmín Jiěfàngjūn) along the Imjin River (臨津江, 림진강, Imjingang). The British journalist, despite being a foreigner, is passionate about reflecting upon and remembering the valiant heroism of his countrymen on Korean soil, something that has been forgotten by the Koreans themselves. His remarkable book takes readers to the steel storm of the battlefield, imprinting in their minds the names of every brave British soldier who fought desperately and died in a stranger’s land.
On the night of April 22, 1951, Britain’s 29th Infantry Brigade formed a perimeter at the lower part of the Imjin River to defend the key route to Seoul from the human tsunami (津波) of People’s Liberation Army. Upstream, the American soldiers barely escaped alive, but the British together with a Belgian battalion kept up the fight against 130 000 Chinese soldiers led by Gen. Peng Dehuai ( 彭德怀, 1898-1974) along the Imjin River. The British lost half of their men. Salmon retells the epic tale, chronicling the near-death moments for each of the veterans of the allied forces. The 29th ‘Glosters’ Brigade exhausted their ammunition after firing all night and despite the awesome, endless flow of Chinese human bombs, each carrying a grenade. The Glosters desperately kept their heads down to avoid the cascade of artillery and soldiers. They had no time to brood about what they were fighting for. The soldiers faced death amid swarms of enemies racing down into the smoke-filled valley, leaving the corpses of their fallen comrades behind on the hilltop. Since that day, these young foreigners have been forever tied to the Korean land.
The Imjin battle
The British are, of course, not alone. Young men from the United States, Australia, Canada, Ethiopia, the Philippines and Turkey also harbour similar traumatic stories, not to mention the men of the Korean Armed Forces. While refugees and families who lost their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers to the war worked to pick up the pieces after the war ended, the veterans had to live every day with the memories of piercing gun fire, bomb flashes, blood and the faces of the enemy soldiers they killed. Yet these veterans say Korea has become a part of their lives and are proud of how their sacrifice has helped the country become what it is today.
The war generation lived through this tragedy, and the post-war generations inherit their memories and tales. To the war generation, war is rage, trauma, fear and suffering, while to the post-war generation, it is no more than an echo in history. Koreans should do their part to repay these elderly veterans before all of their years are exhausted. Korean must also commit themselves to see that such a tragic war does not recur, not here or anywhere else in the world.
Giorgio Olivotto
Seoul, Korea
October 2, 2011
Seoul, Korea
October 2, 2011
Nessun commento:
Posta un commento