Reflections on Korea and Australia's longstanding ties

Australian Ambassador Jeff Robinson gave an interesting lecture for RAS Korea this week in which he spoke without notes about his 40+ year engagement with Korea (first coming as a student in 1984) and reflected on the more than 130-year connection between Australia and Korea. I'd had no idea about Australia's role in helping establish POSCO, nor did I know POSCO is Australia's #1 commercial customer. I summarized his lecture here.

One set of stories not included in his talk are of the Australians who survived POW camps in Korea. The first group were POWs captured in Singapore by the Japanese who were interned in Seoul and Heungnam from 1942 to 1945; I drew on the memoir of Australian Eric Harrison in particular when writing the article "To make Koreans positively realize the true might of our empire": The use of Allied POWs for propaganda purposes in Korea during World War II (Transactions, Volume 97).

During the Korean War, Australian missionary Philip Crosbie was interned with other civilians at the beginning of the war and spent three years in an internment camp, surviving the death march of 1950 that claimed around 100 lives. According to Larry Zellers, in his book In Enemy Hands, it was Crosbie who spearheaded an effort to confer with other internees and arrive at the sequence of events and dates related to their imprisonment (Crosbie also convinced Zellers to write a memoir as well). Crosbie's memoir - copied twice - was seized before he was freed, so he rewrote it immediately after he was freed and published it as Pencilling Prisoner in 1954.

Hahn Dae Soo's (rare) appearances in Korean magazines, 1968-71

The other day, Hahn Dae Soo posted on his Facebook wall a link to this blog post about his September 1969 concert at the Drama Center on Namsan. I remembered an interview with him in Sunday Seoul from that time about the upcoming show, and posted a photo from it in a comment to his post, and before long I was posting the entire article and a translation, and then a few more articles...mostly because there was actually very little published about him back in the late 60s and early 70s.

I realized this five years ago after Jon Dunbar, who was planning to interview Hahn for The Korea Times, asked if I wanted to join (my response was brief: "Yes."). Having gone through years of weekly magazines from that time, I was surprised as I did some research beforehand to realize that Hahn was not really in them. I would eventually learn why while speaking with him. But one article I found was from fall 1968, right after he returned to Korea from New York City after years away. The background of that report can be found in the article I wrote based on our interview, which explains his time in NYC, his return to Korea, his visit to a dabang, a single show at the music room C'est Si Bon, his appearance on TV, and his interview by the Weekly Joongang. It was actually only we when were chatting after the interview that I realized that all of these events occurred in the space of about ten days. He was pretty shocked when I pulled out a printout of the 1968 article:

Jon: I’m sure this must be the era when people referred to you as Korea’s first hippie.

Matt: Um..

Jon: You have something about that?

Hahn: Hee hee hee hee – Matt has something. Oh my god.

Matt: I've gone through pretty much every weekly magazine from 1968 to 1976…

Hahn: Oh my god.

Matt:  And maybe there have been more [articles], but that’s when you first came back in 1968.

Hahn: Oh wow, you’re right! That was a controversial – I remember that – that was a controversial interview. People went crazy: “What is this guy? Who is this, you know, long haired…” They considered me as demented. 

Matt: I love the scare font: “HIPPIIIIE” It’s a monster…

Hahn on the picture: It’s a shot of a be-in or happening. And people sleeping together. That’s precious

Matt: You can have it… the part under the photo…

Hahn (laughs while reading in Korean): He didn’t have LSD because it was hard to get, but smoked marijuana – oh my god, that’s [perfect].    

Here is the article (followed by a handful of others), from the September 15, 1968 issue of 주간중앙 (Weekly Joongang; translated by ChatGPT with corrections):

A Korean Hippie Returns from America

According to the authentic [hippie] Hahn Dae Soo

Eat, play, and sleep to your heart’s content

“Is someone a hippie just because they took their clothes off? They say it’s an ideology.”

Their ultimate goal is a “new religion”

Modern society “does not keep God’s word”

Greets his homeland with songs he composed himself

It is not a “pseudo hippie” who, with hair grown long and wearing strange, peculiar clothing, proudly roams the streets of Seoul, but a genuine hippie who has landed in Korea. Hahn Dae-soo, age 21.

Hahn says he could not try LSD because it was hard to obtain, but that he has used “marijuana.”

His father went to New York, obtained permanent residency, and is running an offset printing business, and his mother lives in Jeonhwa-dong. She remarried to another man. At age ten he went to America, lived three years under his father’s care, returned to Korea to live three more years under his mother, then returned to the U.S. again and survived on his own for four years before returning on the 28th of last month. This is the abbreviated résumé of Hahn Dae Soo, the first “hippie” to take root in Korea.

A Baekjo [swan] cigarette hangs from the tips of his fingers. Cigarette smoke rises from the long, unkempt hair that covers his ears and neck. There is no vacancy in his eyes, and every word he speaks is logical and coherent.

Not a denial of society

He avoids talking about matters like Korea’s position on the Vietnam War or his own personal opinions. When gently asked why, he gave as a reason certain aspects of Korea’s unique international situation, which make hippie ideology unable to take root in Korea.

“There are societies where hippies can be tolerated and societies where they cannot. Korea, you could say, is a society where hippies cannot be accepted. Even if something called ‘hippies’ were to appear here, it would only be an outward form. For example, even if someone walked the streets naked, that would just be an external display - it wouldn’t be behavior emerging from hippie ideology. Hippie thought, in short, is something you can only attain if you are prepared to stake your entire life on it.”

Greetings are kisses and ‘peace’

This spring at the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, more than fifty men and women appeared nude to welcome the spring in a festival called the “Celebration of Spring.” In London, the so-called “hippie dress”—strips of paper tape wrapped around a naked body—is in vogue. In April, a 17-year-old boy named Terry Kenney walked through downtown San Francisco stark naked, deep in thought. These are the images of “hippies.” They do not deny society; they live within it, working when they want to, eating when they want to, playing whenever they wish. That is the “hippie society.”

“In New York’s ‘hippie society,’ they sometimes rent out Central Park and, for a whole evening, do everything they want to do. They dance naked, sing, and even engage in sexual relations. Lately, because of charges of public indecency, when hippies rent the place the police come to monitor them, so sexual relations can no longer occur openly.”

In the hippie society the greeting is “Peace! Peace, brother!” and then a kiss. And they exchange “drugs” as well. 

Floating away on hallucinogens

LSD, marijuana, opium, speed—these drugs, used by hippies, are also said to be a form of rebellion against society. Taking these drugs makes everything look, sound, and feel more vivid.

“But not every hippie habitually uses these drugs. It’s the same as with alcohol -there are people who like it, and there are people who can’t take it at all, right? In my case, LSD was hard to find so I couldn’t try it, but I’ve used most of the others. Once I smoked marijuana and listened to music, music I usually listened to all the time, it felt completely new. Thanks to marijuana I could find the ‘vision’ in that music that I could not usually find.”

Melody charged with stimulation

Since music came up, I asked about “hippie music.” Known as “underground” music, hippie music can trace its roots to the Beatles. Based on the conviction that rock-and-roll could have more depth than classical music, they attempted a new musical revolution; this too is “hippie.” These days “acid rock” is in fashion, in which both the singer and the listener take drugs together and enjoy the songs. One clear feature of hippie music is that its lyrics often criticize U.S. government policy.

“The melodies are very stimulating, and the lyrics strike directly at LBJ (President Johnson). These songs can’t be played on radio or TV, but among the public they are wildly popular. The hippies like McCarthy, but they dislike President Johnson, Vice President Humphrey, and candidate Nixon all the same.” 

So they completely rejected the recent U.S. presidential election as well and instead elected a new president of the ‘Hippie Society.’

Undressing and sleeping on the floor

To live the life of a hippie, one must leave home. And one must enter a crash pad, a place where only hippies gather. The crash pads are financially supported by an organization called the “Digger,” formed from hippies who have achieved economic success. Therefore, hippies in crash pads do not work: they play and eat.

 “I lived in one too. It’s filthy. A room has several wooden bunks, and if you miss your turn, you just sleep on the floor. There is no distinction between men and women. People throw off their clothes wherever… it’s chaos.”

Girls who frequently run away from home and mix in here, at the crash pads in New York’s “East Village,” the gathering place of “hippies.”

Even in such circumstances, he said, new ideas continually sprout. One especially noteworthy fact is how deeply Oriental elements have penetrated the “hippie society” - particularly Eastern religions such as Buddhism and Eastern music such as Ravi Shankar’s sitar.

Enshrining Buddha statues, studying the East

“In the hippie society, the prevailing view is that Christianity has failed as a religion. For example, commandments like ‘Do not steal’ or ‘If someone strikes your cheek, offer the other’ are, they say, considered impossible to observe in our society. So they looked elsewhere for a religion and arrived at Buddhism. It is not that they plan to continue believing in Buddhism, but that after widely studying many religions, the ultimate goal is for the hippie society to have its own new religion. Some hippie friends even enshrine Buddha statues and incense burners and seriously study Buddhism.”

A firm resolve to return home

Hahn’s highest education is one year in the agriculture department at the University of New Hampshire, which he left. After that he studied photography for a year at the New York Institute of Photography. He has published works such as photos of the New York Peace Rally in Ramparts and other magazines. He said that his return this time came after a major resolution. 

“I have been singing for a long time. Composing, writing lyrics, singing, performing… I want to express my thoughts among young people through my songs. When I feel that purpose has been completely achieved, I will disappear on my own.”

Laughs at the word “hippie”

On September 4 he appeared at C’est Si Bon and performed songs he himself wrote, and many university students gave him an enthusiastic welcome. He said it gave him confidence. As for what ideas are contained in his songs, he keeps his mouth firmly shut. “Hippie?” He laughs. One more lingering question: Having left the “hippie society,” can he truly abandon hippie ideology?

For the time being, with his mother

For the time being he will stay in “his mother’s house.” Until he settles again, he says he has no other choice. Still, although he is used to sleeping on the floor, this hippie Hahn does not eat breakfast. We will watch carefully to see how he will live in this society.

—Jeong Ran-ung

As Hahn told me, he was basically "tricked" by the reporter, who asked him all kinds of questions about hippies in the US and then wove his answers into a sensationalist article.

Hahn: This [newspaper story] had a great impact [. ...] So my mother reads this – at that time, this was a big article. Most articles are [small], but this is almost a full page. So she’s in tears, she doesn’t know what to do. So eventually, I didn’t last at the house more than a year – I got kicked out. 

He went on to rent a small room and make money by teaching English and guitar. Photos of him in his room were taken and appeared in articles the next fall when he announced his first headlining performance, to be held at the Drama Center near Namsan.

Completed in 1961, the Drama Center - which hosted a number of folk music performances in the late 1960s and early 1970s - still stands today.

Here is an article from Sunday Seoul, August 31, 1969:

Highlight:

Writing lyrics, composing, and performing all by himself

Expressing the emotions of people in their twenties in his own way

A hippie singer giving his first recital since returning to Korea

Hahn Dae Soo (21), who returned from the United States last August with long hair and flamboyant clothes and acquired the label of “hippie singer,”  is holding a recital. It is the “Hahn Dae Soo Singer-Songwriter Recital,” which will take place at 7 p.m. on September 19 and 20 at the Drama Center. Though it is a small-scale recital with a total production cost of 150,000 won, it is the first “recital” since his return to Korea by this 22-year-old composer-performer who writes lyrics, composes, performs, and sings all by himself.

In a “program” lasting more than two hours, Hahn Dae Soo plans to present what he calls “the most experimental music in Korea.” After hearing it, people will either like it insanely, hurl curses, or else be left utterly bewildered. He intends to synthesize “guitar,” “harmonica,” jing [traditional gong], other possible sound effects, and his own voice. “If people sympathize with my expression, there is no greater honor, and even if they cannot and everyone gets angry and walks out, there is nothing I can do - such is this concert.” From both the performer’s perspective and the audience’s, it is clearly experimental.

For this performance, Hahn Dae Soo began intensive practice three months ago. “His practice space was a small boarding-house room in Myeongnyun-dong. He ‘gathered up’ lyrics as they came to him, and prepared fifteen songs composed just as they suddenly occurred to him while walking or while sleeping. To introduce one of them, the lyrics of a piece titled “The Last Dream”: “It rains, it snows, the sun sets, the sun rises. Last evening there was a fire. A shack on the mountain, look out the window, let’s watch an amusing film, you live, I live, let’s work hard and become rich, I hear a voice from the grave, Kim Satgat’s laughter, someone who has not yet gone, listen to this sound.”

—What does it mean?

“It is a scene of the human world as seen from a window. Suddenly it struck me that the sight of humans wriggling like insects was, somehow, amusing like watching a movie.”

—Do you think you yourself are merely a spectator, not included among the wriggling humans?

“I felt something like that last winter. An old man was crawling up a snow-covered slope, and it struck me that he was myself, and I felt an intense sense of righteousness. Isn’t the world bound to change anyway, and isn’t everyone going somewhere?”

—Do you like the title “hippie singer”?

“I absolutely hate it. The past is the past, and the person I am now is not a ‘hippie.’ When I returned, people strangely attached the label ‘hippie,’ but is everyone with long hair a ‘hippie’?”

He seems to have changed quite a bit. When he returned last year, he walked the streets of Jongno blowing a piri [fife], with loosely disheveled long hair and peculiar clothing. Even now his hair hangs down long. But unlike then, it is neatly groomed, and he dresses fairly smartly. “When I first returned to Korea, I planned to wander across the whole country with a guitar like Kim Satgat. But these days I want a stable life. A life where I can settle inside the music I love.”

His thinking seems to have changed a lot as well.

Around him now is a group of about thirty young people who form a like-minded “group.” “Group” does not mean any formal structure, but a free gathering of people who meet whenever they can to enjoy music. This recital too, he says, has been arranged by these friends.

The expectations he has for this recital are not small.

“You may say my music isn’t even music, and that’s fine. But since I’ve expressed the emotions of people in their twenties in my own way, young people will sympathize with it. In our country, there is no creative work by young people. It’s hard for a writer in their fifties to express the emotions of someone in their twenties exactly. I’m giving it a try. Even if it’s bad, it will at least be a starting point for progress.”

Two weeks later, 주간여성 (Weekly Woman) published a short interview with him on September 17, ahead of his performance:

A Singer Who Isn’t a “Hippie” but Has a Hippie Style

Hahn Dae Soo, holding a Lyric-Writing and Composing Recital, on the 19th

“Why am I a hippie? I’m not. I’m just me, you know.”

With a smile on his lips, the 21-year-old Hahn Dae Soo answers a question with a question when asked, “Do you have any thoughts about the buzzword ‘hippie’?”

His hair is long - over 30 centimeters, probably even longer. You almost never see him deliberately comb or smooth the hair that hangs loosely down to his shoulders.

From the outside, the only clear feature is the long hair; otherwise he is simply an ordinary, tall young man (about 174 cm). He makes music - unusual music that most people do not readily attempt.

“My music doesn’t follow any particular form. It’s not psychedelic. I just put it together as it comes out of me.”

If one insisted on comparing it to existing musical patterns, it would be somewhat like folk-song.

He mostly sings while playing the harmonica and guitar, but he also uses a saw, a gong, and tape-recorded sound effects. It’s also a bit removed from what people call “avant-garde music.” He simply expresses what he feels through music—that is what he is doing.

He previously studied animal husbandry in the United States, but it didn’t go well, so he attended a photography academy. To earn tuition, he played guitar and sang in the evenings at a salon, and from that he began to study music in earnest. Hahn Dae Soo will present that kind of music in a recital held on the 19th and 20th at 7 p.m. at the Drama Center - a showcase of his own lyrics and compositions. “Twin Folio” and Kim Hong-cheol (the yodel singer) will make special appearances, and Lee Baek-cheon will serve as MC.

“Aside from music, I don’t really have any special skills or distinguishing traits,” Hahn says. These days he spends nearly all his time practicing in a small room with just his guitar, microphone, gong, a pipe, some cigarettes, matches, and an ashtray—doing little else.

–How do you manage your living expenses when your income can’t be much?

‘It’s still okay. Well, I don’t eat very much, so… I just get by.’

On October 1, 주간여성 (Weekly Woman) was the only magazine to write about and show a photo of the performance (the first line of the title is cut off, and lyrics for 'To the Happy Land' follow; the rest uses some guesswork at the missing words):

[...] Clutching his guitar... Hahn Dae Soo recital

Pull back the curtain,

With my narrow eyes

Let me see more of this world.

Open the window,

So I can once again feel

The dancing breeze.

On the evening of September 19, at the Drama Center, there was a rare 'happening.'

"What on earth… this is strange…. At times it feels like a shaman, and at other times like the sound of someone starving and going into a fit; anyway, in some way it seems mad…" - that was Hahn Dae Soo’s Singer-Songwriter Recital, his debut concert. With the audience erupting in cheers, the singer clutched his guitar.

When he howled like a beast to the rhythm of poetry, he [expressed] all of this and the world with his whole body.

-

As the folk music scene began to expand, solo singers were joined by male-female duos, which became quite popular (Toi et Moi had a top ten hit with '약속 (Promise)' in mid-1970), but Hahn was in the Navy during the early 1970s and missed out on these developments, though Kim Min-ki included a cover of Hahn's '바람과 나 (The wind and I)' on his debut LP (soon banned), and Yang Hee-eun, who sang many of Kim's songs and scored a Number 1 hit with '아침이슬 (Morning Dew)' in 1972, also covered 'Land of Happiness.'

Despite Hahn recording two albums in 1974 and 1975, at the height of 1970s youth culture, I have not found any appearances in weekly magazines after the articles in 1969, with the exception of this commentary article (part 8 in a series on folk singers, then rising in popularity) in 일간 스포츠 (Daily Sports) on June 11, 1971.

Korea’s Folk Stars (8)

Too original a realm, leaving a distance from their fans

Prefer melodies over lyrics

Do not imitate foreign folk styles as they are

Singing only self-written songs...

Hahn Dae Soo・Kim Min Ki

Because the overseas pop scene is so vast, there are all sorts of people, but the common point that folk singers of star status share is that the lyrics of the songs they sing deal with themes that can give universal sympathy to all and thus are global in scope.

In the case of Bob Dylan (born 1941), who was introduced and debuted at the 3rd Newport Folk Festival in 1961 by the female folk star Joan Baez, the one song of his own - Blowin’ in the Wind, which lamented, “How many wars must a man go through before he regains peace, and how many years must pass before a person becomes truly human?” - was enough for him to become a standard-bearer of modern folk singers.

He not only used acoustic guitar but even attempted accompaniment with electric guitar, spearheaded the emergence of folk rock, and though recently he has focused quite a bit on love songs, in any work whatsoever Bob Dylan sings his own thoughts through lyrics that anyone can sympathize with, and thus reigns as a star.

Among domestic singers, however, there are many who, having become infatuated with the profound realm of these overseas folk stars, imitate them poorly(?) and, despite their high musical talent, they are unfortunate because they fall too deeply into a highly individual realm and thus cannot gain much sympathy from others—.

Hahn Dae Soo (27), who was once a topic of conversation as a “hippie singer,” and new face Kim Min Ki (20), are representative cases. Of course, there are also many fans who, valuing their musical level highly, prefer the songs rather than the lyrics.

In Hahn’s case, it is only that his lyrics are quite difficult because he assigns his own meaning to clusters of abstract words like “sea,” “wind,” “justice,” and so on. Rather than saying he was poorly influenced by overseas pop stars, it seems more accurate to say that he is forming an independent music of his own, just as modern jazz does.

Having lived in America for a long time and associated with hippies, and even after returning home three years ago maintaining his own style of life despite others’ scorn, his representative songs such as ‘내사랑아 (My Love)’ and ‘The Wind and I’ exude Hahn Dae Soo’s unique charm in their melodies and accompaniment, whatever the lyrics may be. Particularly, his original piece ‘과부타령 (Widow’s ballad, apparently an early version of 고무신),’ written in English employing his extensive English ability, well contains his “eccentric” artistry. Because his music is too unique, perhaps it cannot become a profession; singing is his side job, and advertising photography is currently his occupation.

Folk singer Hahn Dae Soo, who is showing even the realm of jazz

Kim Min Ki—having graduated from Gyeonggi High School and presently in his second year in the Western painting department at Seoul National University’s College of Fine Arts—initially debuted as a duo called “Dobidu,” but became a solo singer starting early this year.

He is highly popular among female students, and he makes it a point to sing only his roughly twenty self-written songs such as ‘아하 누가 그렇게 (Aha, Someone, in that way)’ and ‘Morning Dew.’ Judging only by his musical “appearance,” he is the most reminiscent of Bob Dylan and a promising talent. His guitar skill and compositional level are extremely high, but because he tries to put his unorganized thoughts into his songs, they become complex works that fail to narrow the distance with the public. ‘귀하에게 (To You),’ which depicts a thieves’ village, is a fairly successful protest song, but his other songs sound overly complicated in their lyrics, perhaps because he tries too hard to write them in his own difficult way.

Kim Min-ki

There is of course the case of the unknown American folk singer John [SIC Tom] Paxton*, who took the lead in the antiwar movement with the ironic expression “Teach Me How to Kill,” but the lyrics dealt with by most modern folk songs generally make it a principle to contain unvarnished life, higher-level philosophy, or love, rather than short-sighted political opinions. The song itself is the purpose, and once it reaches a realm where it can be used as a means for some social movement, it is no longer a song.

Among domestic folk singers as well, there are at times those who, having misunderstood this difference in concept, receive resistance from fans - an error characteristic of the early folk-song era.

【Reporter Kim Yu-saeng】

-

Well, that closing sentence was the reporter's opinion, but it's pretty clear which folk singers from the early 1970s have stood the test of time.

* Tom Paxton is best known for his anti-Vietnam War song "I Got A Letter From LBJ." Ironically, going through 1960s and 1970s Korean magazines isn't a bad way to learn about more obscure or forgotten Western music from that time.

Exploring traces of the Japanese empire around Namsan

 A few weeks ago, ahead of a walk for the RAS, I wrote this article for the Korea Times about the traces of the Japanese Empire in the Namsan area. There was already the 국치길 (path of national humiliation) - not how I would brand it, but then I don't work for the city government - which 'opened' in 2018 and runs southeast from the former site of the Joseon (Shinto) Shrine to the former site of the Japanese legation, but I wanted to visit the site of the 호국신사 (Defense-of-Nation Shrine) that opened in 1943 and has only its stairs still standing, which meant starting at Sukmyeong Women's University Station, next to which was the 1920s-built Namyeong Arcade. 

How the 108 stairs to the Defense-of-Nation Shrine looked in 2013, before the funicular elevator was installed. 

I then realized the 1923 shootout between Kim Sang-ok and Japanese police took place not far from the Shrine, and worked out a route from there. Funnily enough, the last half of that Korea Times article is about the history of Jangchung-dan and Bakmunsa (the temple to Ito Hirobumi, seen here in 1955), the latter of which, much like nearby Dongguk University, hosted a piece of Gyeonghui Palace, but with 30 people on the walk, we never managed to get there (the first time doing a walk is when you get to figure out if what you planned is doable or not). I'll likely create another walk beginning near City Hall that heads through Myeong-dong and Chungmu-ro before ending at the Jangchung-dan area.

I did a lot of online research to learn about these remains (and disappeared buildings), but in terms of storytelling was helped immensely by Todd Henry's book Assimilating Seoul, which made me realize that a space south of Cheongnyangni Station that appears as a site of rail yards in a 1947 aerial photo was in fact the site of the 조선대박람회 (Chōsen Grand Exposition), images (and the exact location) of which can be seen here.

A look at the filming of Inchon in Korea in 1979, Dongdaemun Market's history, and Useful Databases

For my latest Korea Times article, ahead of the historical walk in Itaewon I’m giving next weekend, I look at the filming of ‘Inchon,’ one of the biggest flops in film history, in Korea in 1979 through the eyes of Paul Courtright and Ben Bryan, two Peace Corps Volunteers who spent a day on set as extras, and Tom Casey, owner of Sportsman’s Club in Itaewon, where cast members spent many nights. Many thanks to Paul, Ben, and Tom for sharing their stories.

A previous article (sorry, I've been pretty delinquent in posting here) reviewed the book Five Nations, One Life: The Extraordinary Journey of Dr. Kyoung-jin Kim, while another focused on the history of the Dongdaemun area.

In the cases of the articles about neighbourhoods in Seoul (and many others), I've researched their history  using a variety of databases.

One of the easiest ways to see when a building was registered is with this 3D map, which has buildings colour coded by decade, and if you click on the building it will tell you the year it was registered (unless it is grey, which means there’s no information). Of course, the date registered and the date built don't always align, but they do often enough. It allows you to see at a glance the age of buildings in a neighbourhood. A less user-friendly property history site (with more information) is here.

The Seoul Museum of History has old maps of Seoul (and other places) that can be downloaded. As well, the Museum has published several books about specific neighbourhoods you can read online (for example, Itaewon or Dongdaemun Market).

This government site has aerial photos going back to 1947 (for some neighbourhoods), though it only becomes consistent and of high quality from 1972). Just search for a 동 and, after confirming the correct location, the 항공사진 option should appear on the menu that appears. You can narrow the selection to a certain year or set of years, and can download full size photos if you sign up to the site. 

A British POW's account of Korea's liberation in 1945

Back in June, I gave a lecture for Royal Asiatic Society Korea about Allied POWs in Korea during WWII, which can be watched here:

While researching this presentation (a topic I've been interested in for almost 15 years), I made use of material generously given to me by Chris Sullivan, whose grandfather was a POW in Seoul, including a copy of the excellent book You Must Endure: The Lancashire Loyals in Japanese captivity, 1942–1945. as well as his scans of Nor Iron Bars, a magazine made by Loyals officers while in captivity, and the  Diary of Capt. John Lever. Lever's observations about the end of his captivity - and the advent of liberation for Korea - make for interesting reading, particularly on the 80th anniversary of Liberation:

Diary of Capt. John Lever, Lancashire Loyals

August 15th

The air raid warning has just sounded (1.5 pm). This is the third day in succession. On the 12th we saw about 30-40 planes (American) that dropped no bombs on Keijo but yesterday I heard a few bumps which I judged to be about 10 bombs dropped about 10 miles S.E.. Ushihara, the interpreter, who lived in America in his happier days, said they had brought 2 down and that the Americans had stooped to the base trick of imitating Japanese markings on their planes. Things have hotted up since the rescript.[?] 

5 officers arrived here this morning from the civil jail - Kershaw, Collinson, Jacobs, Woods, Butler. They have completed the savage 2 years sentence they were awarded for letting Joe Moore and Sgt Bosworth have money for their attempted escape. Unfortunately Mullins has still a year to do and Sgt Bosworth 4 years. Pigott has rather more than a year as his sentence was held over whilst he was in the hospital. So they are not here yet.

Friday August 17th

So much has happened since I wrote the above, two days ago. I couldn't keep pace with it if I were writing in shorthand all the time. Pigott, Mullins, Sgt Bosworth, Sergeant Griffiths and Broyghton walked in this morning under their own steam. They just walked out of the civil jail, the Koreans were storming round the place all night. All of our Korean guards went about midnight, couldn't sleep last night, it's the excitement of waiting to be reborn. We should be out again in the wide wicked world with all its temptations. Hold us back! Our resistance is low. A Yankee airman was brought in yesterday afternoon about 4:00 p.m. in handcuffs. We were able to tell him the war was over, he didn't know.

Wednesday afternoon we were having our usual game of Mah Jong when the gardeners [officers who were allowed to tend a garden that was likely on the present day Yongsan Garrison] came back and said they felt sure the show must be over. We accepted it with reservations, fearful to give full credence to it in case there was any mistake. Yesterday afternoon the news was unrefutable. We had it translated from a paper. Korean flags were flying. There is one outside this morning that has been altered and adapted out of a Jap flag. The original crimson circle on a white background is now the peculiar looking Chosenese flag.

Harry Varge gave me the story as it struck a gardener yesterday. They left camp in the morning looking for indications that the show was over but there were very few people in the streets and nothing to indicate a change. Most of the gardeners felt down, as, so far as they could see, it might be a false alarm. By noon there were indications. Koreans were rushing up to the fence shouting “Tomodachi,” meaning you and me pals, and giving the thumbs up sign.

On the way back odd Koreans were trying to be demonstrative but were being chased off by the sentries. Gradually as they progressed into the more populated parts this got more and more out of hand, the sentries were mopping their brows and finally had to cave in in a muck sweat. [As the POW Camp was next to the train tracks, they could see that] Trains had been commandeered and were packed tight and oozing over with wildly cheering Koreans waiting flags. They were getting in the way flinging their arms up and shouting “Banzai,” “Japanese Koto” ([Kofuku?] surrendered) and all sorts of things, rushing amongst our fellows shaking hands with them and generally flowing over with bonhomie. They are deliriously happy Japan is beaten. Nobody loves the Japanese, especially a government produced Japanese.

August 26th

Yesterday morning a message from the office to place P.W. in yellow letters on a black background in the middle of the square so that one of our planes could drop supplies (food and medical). This was done in 20 ft letters. A plane started to hover around at about midday at about 30,000 ft but after an hour or so went away without coming any lower. 

August 27th

A plane was round again yesterday up to the same trick, but went away without coming down low at all. The same happened again this morning. We have P.W. in large letters in the square and a Union Jack on the canteen roof and we are still patiently waiting. We are still getting Japanese papers daily and having the bits we want translated into English. This was going on for a long time before the Nips packed in but I never dare to mention it in these notes in case the Nips did a search and found it. There would probably have been a lot of trouble all around if we had been found out. The last bit of news we got officially was about a fortnight after the landing on the continent in June last year just before Tojo ceased to be Premier. We had one Red Cross parcel each still to be issued on the 14th when hostilities ceased. This was issued on the 19th. Had the war going on until next spring I think we should have had a very thin time this coming winter and it would have been most improbable that we should have received any further Red Cross supplies. The natives would have gone as hungry as ourselves, but they are more accustomed to bad treatment having been under Japanese control since 1910.

We read that MacArthur and 7,200 troops are to land in Tokyo tomorrow (Aug. 28th), Landings on Kyushu to take place on September 1st. 32,000 prisoners and civilian internees to be taken to Manila as soon as possible where they will get relief. It can't happen too soon for us. We are speculating which way we shall go home. Most of us would like to go via America but I'm afraid we shall be going home via Suez. Our food is somewhat unbalanced but I feel better and more mentally alert since the pack up, since when we have had more bread and less rice. We have also eaten 4 of our pigs and several rabbits, a few chickens, more potatoes and beans and more tinned food from our parcels.

The last fortnight has been the hottest for 10 years so it is not the weather for feeling hungry.  I'm having about three cold baths a day. We use mosquito nets at night. There is one suspected case of malaria in the camp.

The day after Dallas Yergain, the American pilot of the P-47, was brought in, a friend of his was brought in also. He was one of the parties searching for Yergain and he was brought down whilst on the job. According to the Japanese paper 12 American planes were brought down with no loss to themselves. According to [William] MacDaniel (the 2nd American), 12 Japs were brought down and 2 American. McDaniels’ squadron leader brought 5 down himself. There are seven P-38 just landed on the aerodrome. I've just been out watching them circling around. May be we shall have a visitor in camp today.

August 29th Wednesday

Those P38s mustn't have landed, they disappeared low behind the trees and we didn't see them again, but they must have crept away again, they must have just inspected the aerodrome.

It is now 15 days since hostilities ceased and nothing has happened as far as we are concerned except for some pamphlets dropped. The wording showed they were printed before Japan packed in. Then there was the message to hurry up and stick the letters P.W. on the ground so that supplies could be dropped. This was done hurriedly 5 days ago. The C.O. sent a message to be broadcast from Tokyo which said we are all in good enough health and gave the names of all of us in the camp. Pigott has become seriously ill since then, there's no hope of his recovery. He will probably die before we are relieved.

Kinloch, in charge of prisoners in Konan, is having a tough time. The Russians are there and he can't keep the fellows in the camp. Apart from about five officers, they are all other ranks who have been working in a place making carbide. I am told the works and factories cover a tremendous area about 6 miles around. Kinloch rang up the C.O. yesterday and said he had 46 men missing. When nothing whatever happens in a fortnight it is only natural that the men get restive. No one has ever sent us a postcard. We've had no incidence here yet with the Japanese but this sort of thing cannot go on indefinitely if we have no communications whatsoever.

I went to the cemetery yesterday. The last time I was there was December 1942 when Jackie Whiteing and Colonel Dyson's ashes were put in the ground. After looking at the graves and a short prayer we walked up to the top of the hill which looks over a large area including half of Keijo, the view was excellent, but to hell with Keijo, we want a view of Manila.

The Japanese are still officially in charge here though naturally we relaxed considerably when we got news of the wrap up. We started to smoke wherever we liked and put lights on whenever we liked without asking permission. We've had one or two concerts, we look out of windows whenever we like and in our own cookhouse the last two days and so the Nips have begun to regain their poise a bit and [Capt. E.W. ‘Jiminy’] Paque the adjutant seems to have had continuous arguments about not setting the place on fire with our cigarettes, and not waving to Koreans out of the windows.

If they don't pipe down and we don't keep control of ourselves there will be a bust up. They probably have been bust ups in less orderly camps. We had a very amusing race meeting the other evening with sweepstakes, token bookies and everything. There were five races and six horses in each race, they were moved up on the throw of the dice. The horses had comic names such as Major O'Donnell's RICE-BALL by WANGLED out of FENNEY. Apparently Tim O'Donnell has been wangling an extra bit of rice out of Fenney who is one of the cooks. Capt. F.K. Beattie’s PATCH of HAIR out of PLACE. Frankie Beattie’s hair has been falling out lately and he has a bald patch on one side of his head. I lost steadily until the last race when I picked Major Holohan’s ANTIQUARIAN and won everything back and a few yen. Bill Fugham? backed No.2 horse in each race and all he got was a good run for his money as No.2 was second in each race oddly enough.

Aug 31st Fri

I left off writing on Wednesday to dash out and see a B-29 circling round. They finally concentrated on us and flew over the camp several times quite low we could read on the wings PW SUPPLIES. They had a long look-see as I didn't expect they had thought our square that they had to drop the supplies on would be so small and so hemmed in by slums finally just after 12:30 they flew over at a few hundred feet with the traps open underneath, did another circle round, then flying in from E[ast] to W[est] let the supplies go. They missed our packet handkerchief of a square (maybe deliberately). A lot of the stuff dropped in a plowed field about a hundred yards beyond. A number of the parachutes failed to open properly before the stuff landed. Several hovels and houses were damaged, some of the canisters going clean through the roof of one or two of the houses. One woman was killed almost instantly, a canister taking off her leg when it dropped through into her house. I was surprised when I saw the battered canisters brought into camp, they were made from 40 gallon oil drums welded together. They dropped a considerable amount of stuff, a lot of which has since been dished out. Boots, socks, underpants and vests, shirts, trousers, jackets, hats. Chocolate, tobacco cigarettes, matches, tinned food, cocoa and syrup. The food is mostly M[eat]&V[egetable] soups, tinned fruit, C rations and K rations. It is rather sloppy food, which is as well, as we couldn't suddenly switch on to good solid food too rapidly after the rubbishy food we have had for the last 3 ½ years. I don't feel hungry now, I'm eating to capacity, keeping in the borderline of indigestion. It was in July that the Emperor proclaimed that the Japanese could get all the nourishment they required from ground fishes heads and sweet potato leaves as they had no fear of being starved into submission. This was soon followed by a drastic cut in the rice ration. Thank goodness the Nips have packed it in and we haven't another winter to face.

Pigott died at 6:30 p.m. on Wed. 29th Aug. with Tubercular Meningitis. We had a funeral service the following morning at 9:00 a.m. All [nine of] the Russian [POW]s attended and the two Americans. I went to the cremation later in the morning with a few more of his friends.

On Thursday afternoon another B-29 arrived and with less preamble than on the previous day dropped more supplies. It was an impressive sight. They dropped the stuff from a slightly greater height and the parachutes opened better but very little actually dropped in the camp.

Sept 3rd Mon

Just got back from the trip into the country. We went out in trucks at 1:00 p.m. and got back about 5:00 p.m. It was most amusing, a good time was had by all. 

We went right through the town and out into the country on the other side and de-bussed at a spot near the river. We had about 2 hours to roam around, the whole thing was organized with Japanese efficiency, we were free to roam along until we reached a Jap soldier and we must not walk any further than that. I walked along with Geoffrey Barnes and we came to a Jap soldier almost at once. We walked across the sand down to the river, got a small boat and rowed the half mile or so across to the other shore, then wandered about at will. The chaps had failed to cover their flanks. We met one of the other fellows who had brought some money out with him, the only currency I had was 2 bars of chocolate and 1 yam, so we bought a little fruit then went to a house and had some SHAMSHU [likely makgeolli]. It’s whiteish like milk and tastes like a distant poor relative of champagne. Geoffrey and I then strolled along till we came to a small Korean cottage, making ourselves welcome, we walked in [and] were invited to sit in the porch [and] admired the baby and gave the boy (about 10 years old) some chewing gum. The Koreans seem very fond of chewing gum. I think the Allies could have conquered this country with chewing gum if they had known. We got a lot of chewing gum with the supplies that were dropped. I don't use it personally so I keep some with me when I go out and want to get friendly.

Tomorrow morning at 8 we are going to the old Emperor's palace and shall be back at noon. 

On the way home the natives were all very friendly, waving and cheering as we went by. I'm feeling rather tired now, the comfortable tired feeling after fresh air, maybe the drink has helped the tired feeling, for in our stroll this afternoon we wandered along exchanging greetings with the locals till we came to a small village. We went into a small sort of barber’s shop and a pleasant young fellow there asked us to have a drink. He had a very friendly smile and a nice looking little daughter about 5 years old. I gave her a bar of chocolate. Our host produced a sort of small teapot. I was afraid for a moment we were going to have a cup of tea, [but] my fears were unfounded [as] it was sake. After a little while we found it best to keep hold of the cup, as he kept filling it every time we put it down. We handed round our American cigarettes and after a pleasant little interlude said goodbye to most of the village who by that time were trying to congregate into the shop. 

We have had a visitor tonight, a R.C. priest named Quinlan. 

So ends Lever's diary. Thomas Quinlan, a missionary from Ireland, was appointed Prefect of Shunsen (Chuncheon) Dec. 8, 1940 and resigned Feb. 9, 1942 (after the outbreak of the Pacific War). “Quinlan was placed under house arrest and survived as a prisoner until the Americans' victory in the Pacific in 1945.” He was later held prisoner in North Korea during the Korean War and survived the ‘Tiger death march’ in late 1950. Here is a photo of him upon his release:

The March 1945 revolt of Korean forced labourers against Japanese on Mili Atoll

[Update at bottom, June 16.]

Recent news reports have brought up forced mobilization of Koreans in the South Pacific during WWII, with Yasuto Takeuchi, a Japanese expert on the topic, giving a talk in Gwangju in which he said most sent to the Marshall Islands (635 of the 640) were from Jeollanam-do. (This differs from numbers he gave a week earlier, as reported in the Hankyoreh.) What most caught my eye was this reference to Mili Atoll:

Mili Atoll is where the Japanese military forcibly mobilized 800 Koreans as military personnel in 1942 to build military bases, including an airfield. Takeuchi said last year that 213 of 218 Koreans who died in Mili Atoll at that time were residents of South Jeolla.

Not mentioned in that Korea Times article (but described in the Hankyoreh article) is something reported much earlier in the Korea Times. In 2010, an ROK government committee announced the results of its three-year probe of Japan's forced mobilization of Koreans during WWII which found that "As many as 100 Koreans, who were forcibly mobilized by Japan to build military facilities on the Marshall Islands, were indiscriminately killed in a rebellion that appears to have started after they were forced to eat human flesh" which had been "disguised as ‘whale meat' after the Japanese forces ran out of food."

My ears perked up as I read this because the name sounded familiar, and a search through materials I scanned while doing my MA proved me right. At that time, I scanned a few pages of the fascinating newspaper (or newsletter) “The Voice of Korea” which was published in Washington DC during WWII (and after) and reprinted and collected into a bound book at the UW library. The full, 2-page story of the Korean rebellion on Mili Atoll, and the attempts by the US military to rescue islanders and Koreans from the grip of the Japanese is a fascinating one, complete with photos of the rescue operation. (Note that there are no mentions of cannibalism, perhaps because it was considered to 'strong' a topic for readers at the time.) 

Worth noting is the fact that if not for the US Marines' timing, there might have been no survivors.

The following is from The Voice of Korea, Nov. 5, 1945:

KOREANS BATTLED JAPS ON MILLE

By Technical Sergeant Theron J. Rice, U.S.M.C. Combat Correspondent

WASHINGTON, DC, August 31-(Delayed) They were a pitiful lot who struggled through the pounding surf, straining for that last hit of energy which would mean safety at long last.

In pairs they helped each other swim when the tiny rubber boats sent in for them were filled. Then with death-like grips they grasped outstretched hands ex tended to hoist them aboard the LCI.

Their muddy brown skin, racked by disease, was stretched taut over fleshless bones. Their eyes shone deep in their glistening skulls. Their necks were drawn tight, giving them a gaunt appearance. And their hair, stiff and dry, was like that of some dead animal.

They were the 67 survivors of the only recorded revolt by Korean laborers against the Japanese in the annals of the Pacific war.

The story they had to tell of life under the rule of hopelessly cut-off Jap troops on Mille Atoll was one of oppression, humiliation and starvation. Until the final surrender it could not be told, for the sake of the safety of Korean laborers at various bypassed outposts.

But the formal capitulation of Mille to the destroyer escort Levy on August 22 (east longitude time) has lifted the veil of secrecy on one of the strangest stories to come out of the Pacific war.

Mili Atoll is at bottom right, and is over 500 km from Kwajalein at top left.

Mille Bypassed Early in War

As the southernmost of four Jap outposts in the Marshalls, Mille was heavily reinforced in November, 1943, following the fall of Tarawa and Makin.

But Marine amphibious troops, in the first of seven operations that swept them across the Pacific, next landed at Kwajalein instead. From that time forward, Mille joined Wotje, Jaluit and Maloelap as bypassed atolls instead of formidable barriers on the road to Tokyo.

The Fourth Marine Aircraft Wing was assigned the tedious and painstaking job of pulverizing these enemy bases. Seventh Air Force bombers also helped blast the Jap positions before moving on to forward bases and more important targets. Soon, cameras showed the islands to be little more than pitted chalky earth, twisted guns, gutted blockhouses and fire blackened remnants of enemy aircraft. Stripped of the camouflage and protection of thousands of palm trees, now shredded and torn from their roots, the Jap garrisons were going underground.

In June, 1944, naval vessels under cover of darkness, slipped into the lagoon at Wotje, where nearly 700 Marshallese natives quietly climbed aboard outriggers, attached them to the rescue vessels, and were towed ten miles across the lagoon to Erikub Island and safety.

In January of this year, after repeated Jap threats to exterminate them, 450 Marshallese were taken off Maloelap Atoll while Fourth Wing planes bombed and strafed enemy positions on either side of the narrow evacuation beach.

Next on the list was Mille Atoll, so Military Government officers began sending in Marshallese scouts by night to gather information and to plan, under the very noses of the Japanese, the evacuation of natives and Koreans trapped with them.

Half a dozen natives, carefully chosen for their intelligence and ability to speak several languages, were given these assignments, and spent countless hours memorizing their instructions. 

First Operation Failed

Despite the elaborate plans and perfect timing, the operation was unsuccessful. When LCIs beached several minutes after dawn, no one was waiting to come aboard. Only at Knox Atoll, two miles off the southeast tip of Mille, did the evacuation go as planned. Natives there had jumped their guards during the night, driven them off, and seized one prisoner.

The lone Jap spoke some English and told crew members he was 19 years old and drove a taxicab in Yokohama before the war. When given a cigarette, he smoked it until it burned his fingers. "This is the first real cigarette I've had in more than two years," he said.

During the week that followed the abortive evacuation, Military Government officers tried to figure out a way in which they might still remove the natives and Koreans from Mille before it was too late. While they were doing so, a Corsair pilot returned from a patrol flight and excitedly told how a large group of persons had frantically waved many improvised white flags at him when be swooped low over the atoll. Just what this signified – possibly a desire to surrender after all – was not known, but two LCIs with heavily armed crews were dispatched to the scene immediately.

Shortly before dawn on Sunday, March 18, the rescue vessels made their way along the southern side of the atoll. While one of the boats stopped to take aboard a number of natives who came out to meet it, the other, directed by a patrol plane, proceeded to Chiribun Island where a large group awaited rescue.

From the first few Koreans taken aboard, native interpreters learned the full details of the entire week of momentous developments. The Japs had sensed that the first evacuation attempt was imminent, and doubled their guard to prevent its success. Thus, when the LCIs beached, it meant almost certain death for anyone who heeded the call of loudspeakers to, "Come on out and we'll cover you."

Brutal Jap Retaliation

In retaliation for the attempted escape, a firing squad of five Japanese troops blindfolded eight native men and three women, stabbed them and then shot them with revolvers. One of the women, the 24-year-old wife of one of the few natives who managed to escape, was accused – in company with the others – of concealing a plot against the Japanese.

All conversation between the natives and Koreans was forbidden. Violation of that order meant punishment through starvation. But the Japs had made their big mistake in executing the 11 Marshallese.

That act of brutality aroused the resentment of the already bitter Marshallese and Koreans, so a group of the latter who had long planned to escape at the first opportunity made hasty final preparations for a full scale revolt.

During the early morning hours of March 17, figures moved silently through the darkness on Chiribun. Then out of the night came the revengeful cries of the Koreans as they jumped the 13-man Jap garrison there. Seizing their rifles, the Koreans killed a number of the enemy, but several [Japanese] managed to make their way across a reef toward Lukonor Island, where the main Jap garrison force lived.

As soon as the action ended, more than 150 Koreans gathered from their hiding places. Hand grenades and dynamite, pro-cured from the Japs ostensibly for fishing or in trade for food, appeared from countless places of concealment. Some of the explosives had been hoarded for more than six months in preparation for the inevitable day of revenge the Koreans knew would come.

Within a matter of minutes previously arranged plans went into effect. In a makeshift defense line, the Koreans scattered themselves across the center of the island. Then they dug in to await the certain return of heavily-armed Jap troops.

Japs Stormed Korean Positions

With the first light of dawn a force of more than 300 Japs was spotted heading toward Chiribun, armed with rifles, light machine guns, and hand grenades. In suicidal fashion they stormed the Korean positions, despite a shower of grenades, and the fighting soon became hand-to-hand.

The Koreans resisted valiantly and killed an undetermined number of Japs. But the odds against them were overwhelming and they soon were forced to give ground. Adopting guerilla tactics, they were able to harass the Japs throughout the day. It was during this stage of the battle that the Corsair patrol plans had appeared overhead, and their frantic flag waving was for help.

Between 20 and 30 Koreans and many natives were killed outright by the first Japanese onslaught. In accordance with a prearranged plan, which involved suicide rather than sub-mitting to capture by the Japs, an estimated 100 wounded Koreans killed themselves with hand grenades or dynamite. To save ammunition, most of which was used to hold off the Japs, three or four wounded would gather in a tiny circle and destroy themselves with one grenade.

Meanwhile, the Japanese, having spotted the Corsair, feared an ambush after dark or the return of more planes, so they seized a number of hostages and hurriedly returned to Lukonor. Those natives and Koreans who had survived fled to nearby islets to hide until help came.

Of approximately 190 Koreans who took part in the revolt, only 67 survived to be rescued by the American vessels. Indicative of their anxiety to leave the island was the fact that 13 persons piled into a seven-passenger rubber boat for one of the shore to ship trips.

Three Japs on tiny islets near Chiribun decided they had had enough, and heeded a promise of "good food and fair treatment" from the LCI. Stripped of their tattered clothes before coming aboard, they were in far worse physical condition than that of any Korean or native.

After a hearty meal of white rice – the first they had eaten in more than two years – the Koreans were given medical attention and then questioned.

Jap Garrison Was Starving

They revealed that the remnants of the Japanese garrison on Mille had been starving to death at the rate of as many as ten a day during recent weeks. Of an original garrison of five to seven thousand men, they estimated about 1,500 remained. (Approximately 2,400 troops were on the island when it surrendered to the USS Levy.) Their testimony disputed the widely-circulated contention that the Japanese were able to bear hardships on a par with the native population.

The Koreans cited the heavy Nipponese death rate, as compared to the few if any losses from malnutrition suffered by the Marshallese, as sufficient evidence of that fact. This they attributed to their more adaptable constitutions, a better mental attitude, and a willingness to share what little they had for the good of all.

Intelligence officers also learned that not only had rice, salmon and other Japanese food supplies been used up, but even native staples such as coconut, breadfruit and taro were practically exhausted.

So desperate was the food situation that groups of famished Japanese were sent out regularly to search for whatever food they could find. Acute malnutrition caused the death of many of these men, who often dropped in their tracks while at some far corner of the atoll. When they were fortunate enough to find food, they fought among themselves for it.

They even traded grenades or dynamite to the Koreans for anything edible. In this manner the Koreans were able to build up a supply of explosives with which to stage their revolt. They were compelled to furnish the Japs with a certain amount of food each week, but natives, fishing in their primitive style, fulfilled that requirement for them.

Blockade Kept Out Supplies

Medicine was a thing of the past and the supply of sake had long since disappeared. However, the Japs would sacrifice almost anything for "jukru", a powerful native Marshallese drink made from coconut tree sap.

Loin cloths had replaced practically all uniforms and most of the troops lived in dusty bomb craters or thatched huts. The commanding officer of the Jap garrison was said to be living in a deluxe dugout, furnished with items stolen from anyone and everyone, but was described as "short, fat and hungry just like us."

No mail had reached the island since December, 1943, and no planes nor ships nor submarines had dared the air blockade to bring them supplies since early in 1944.

Bombing and strafing attacks were said to have killed many of the enemy, but severe malnutrition had been the leading cause of death during the past six months.

During their long stay on Mille-since the spring of 1942-the Koreans were paid an average of six dollars monthly. But they were abused even more than were the Marshallese, and they had little use for the money they earned.

-----------------

[Update] 

One study is summarized here. On this site about forced labourers, there are two US Government photos related to this (one of which is above). The other can be seen more clearly at Reddit here:

"A group from the 68 survivors of an original 193 Korean slave labors who revolted against Japanese on Mille Atoll are shown here consuming Yank K-rations aboard an LCI off Majuro Atoll, Marshall Is. They are Navy prisoners of War."

RAS Korea lecture and excursion this week

With the "reboot" of Royal Asiatic Society Korea I've been tasked with organizing lectures and excursions, and am thankful to people like Jacco Zwetsloot, Olga Fedorenko, and Jack Greenberg who stepped up and quickly agreed to give lectures. As this Korea Times article notes, short notice and scheduling snafus made it difficult to find a lecturer for June, so I've stepped up to give this talk today (speaking of short notice):

I'll also be leading this excursion this weekend, which is essentially a sequel to last year's Sindang-dong excursion:

More excursions for June and July can be read about here.

It's great that RAS Korea was able to secure funding to continue its operations after a hiatus, though it's operating as a skeleton crew at the moment. Anyone willing to volunteer to help out should feel free to contact us!

"Tiger Season: A Novel of Korea," by Gojan Nikolich

My latest Korea Times article is a review of "Tiger Season: A Novel of Korea," as well as an interview with the author, Gojan Nikolich, who was kind enough to answer a series of questions. I really enjoyed the novel. There have been a small number of novels by former US soldiers about the world of US base camp towns in Korea in the 1960s and 1970s, but Tiger Season stands out above the others. Another I remember was an engaging-enough story, if featuring too much of the 'soldier and sex worker with a heart of gold' for my tastes, but ultimately was incredibly disappointing due to its abrupt ending. That's most certainly not the case for Tiger Season, which is very carefully constructed, as I note in my article.

Below are the (lightly-edited) original responses to my questions. Many thanks to Gojan Nikolich for allowing me to post these:

"When I Was There:

I served my Korea tour as an E5 Sergeant with the 2nd Infantry Division in 1970-71 at Camp Howze (Bongilchon) and Camp Casey (Dongducheon), where I worked as a military journalist/public affairs specialist and as editor of the 2nd ID newspaper. I traveled frequently on army reporting assignments and also as a stringer for the Tokyo office of Pacific Stars & Stripes, where the division newspaper was composed and printed. I wrote about and attended meetings at Panmunjom as part of my public affairs job, so that’s where I gathered some of my personal impressions for the book. This was during a busy period of DMZ/North Korean activity following the 1968 release of the Pueblo crew.

Personal Experience:

It wasn’t difficult to take advantage of my own history for a book like this, but I hope it’s been adequately disguised. The fiction of probability is often truer than the truth.

In 1970 I was involved in a patrol jeep incident along the DMZ that was similar to the one depicted in the book — both the crash off the cliff and the injuries of the main character.  After spending several months in hospitals in Seoul and Busan, I too searched for the mystery farmer/guardian angel who mysteriously happened to call in a rescue helicopter. Sadly, I was never able to thank him. I’ve had a big soft spot in my heart for Koreans ever since. 

During my hospital rehab, with nothing else to do, I scribbled my thoughts about Korea’s strange camp town world into a notebook that ended up packed away and forgotten for 50+ years in a box that I didn’t discover until a few years ago when I was cleaning out my garage. Those notes sparked memories, so I used the fictional vehicle of Eddie Profar, Jia the courtesan, Yevgeny Lee and the tiger to tell the story. 

I’m glad I was an old geezer before I wrote about Korea. The younger version of me couldn’t have done it properly.

Research:

My research for this project was selective and based on what would drive the narrative and the plot, so a scholar I am not. I used creative license to put certain historical facts into perspective and tried to be aware of Korea’s evolving attitude regarding the history of US military camp towns. Until a few years ago, the subject of sanctioned post-war brothels along the DMZ was largely ignored by the US public and media, although the Korea Times has written about the military border town controversy quite extensively. Much of my research was to get a sense of Korea’s refugee crisis during those early months of the war and to explain how this was affected by the US Army’s “Pusan Perimeter” during the late summer of 1950. This is the time when Jia and her family attempted to flee south from their village.

Why 1968:

I set the book in 1968 because that was the height of the so-called “Little Korean War” (1966-69), and this seemed to provide me with all the ingredients needed to introduce the reader to the neglected tension of those times. This was also the height of Korea’s camp town era. I wanted to tell that tale and relate it to the controversial (and under-reported) Cold War aftermath of the Korean War itself. I also felt that someone should talk about the refugee and orphan history of many of the women who were recruited involuntarily into the kijichon world.

True Or Not:

• To my knowledge, nobody who negotiated at Panmunjom ever wore a catheter, although many of us discussed how this might offer a certain advantage during long summer arguments with the North Koreans, who always seemed reluctant to get up and use the bathroom during their marathon Panmunjom meetings.

• Yep, I once attended a mandatory lecture and graphic slide show during which we were told about the consequences of catching VD. 

• The outdoor DMZ propaganda broadcasts were introduced by the Park Chung Hee government and the DJs at AFKN did occasionally contribute parody musical stunts, though this wasn’t encouraged and didn’t happen with the frequency that I suggest in the book. 

• Soldiers on duty at night on the DMZ loved to bullshit each other, so I’d heard about ghost-story talk of a roaming tiger loose out on the ice of the Imjin River. I imagined how this would put a little extra jump in your step while working at night along the fence. 

* The vibe at the camp’s nightclub was as described in the book. 

* The train trip from Busan to Seoul, including the Korean family that shows kindness to Eddie and gives him food…that was true and I made the same trip after I was released from the hospital.

Writers I Like:

I’ll read anything from the most trashy, pulpy thriller or cowboy western to the best of all the 19th century Russians to Faulkner and Hemingway. Charles Portis is a favorite. Anything by Cormac McCarthy, Vonnegut and Don DeLillo. Murakami is another. I actually read much more non-fiction than fiction and keep re-reading the writers I’ve always liked."

As a follow-up to his answers I asked about a few more topics, and wondered if the 2ID newspaper he worked for was the Indianhead, to which he answered, Yes, and included some clippings, "along with the Indianhead newspaper masthead, just to give you a sense of the general vibe of what was being  written at the time":

"The Army brass pretty much left us alone, though they would occasionally insist on a positive PR twist to a story that might favor official military policy. This was to be expected. However, being in our early twenties, we’d play a cat and mouse game and sneak in reporting with subtle references that GIs would fully understand. For some unknown reason, they allowed me to write a free-form opinion column (“Smoke Signals”) that sometimes got me into trouble. I once mocked the 2nd Div commanding general for building an expensive duck pond and pet duck shelter behind the HQ building. The company CO called me on the carpet and ripped into me to never write something like that again…or else. 

"A few months later they gave me a medal for writing exactly that kind of stuff, much of it pretty amateurish in hindsight. The US Army operates in mysterious ways.

I recall that there was a cooperative back-and-forth story pickup arrangement with Stars & Stripes in which some soldiers were attached as staffers out of Tokyo or 8th Army in Yongsan. My stringer stuff got used, bylined and not, and sometimes the Indianhead would contribute reporting as part of a S&S compilation story. The wire services and Army Times would also use our material, especially photos.  I’d re-write and edit certain reporting to submit to S&S while I was in Tokyo every two weeks to lay out and print the division newspaper.

Regarding The 1971 Race Riot:

Yes, I remember that event but was traveling out of the area when it happened. I went into the hospital in late January 1971 following my injury, so was out of the entire news loop for a few months. 

Yes, the GI clubs seemed to be generally divided based on the category of music they played, by race, and according to the unwritten rules and preferences of the “business women” and the bar owners. There were many exceptions, however. Some clubs catered to older NCOs, some skewed toward officers. Some to African Americans. I remember one club that only played country music and so attracted those customers accordingly. 

The Army often put clubs off-limits for a variety of reasons, including for discriminating against black soldiers.  Mostly it was because a club had too many drug use reports from the MPs or if their bar workers exceeded accepted VD rates. The newspaper would announce off-limit clubs. I remember a general feeling of underlying tension that prevailed some nights in the village outside of Camp Casey — Tongduchon, known as “TDC” and now spelled “Dongducheon.” TDC was the largest camp town along the DMZ at that time. Most of the streets were barely paved. This was the tail-end of the 1960s civil rights era in the US, so most everyone was aware of the racial issues at hand since we’d already experienced the same unrest back home, especially if you came from a large city.  On a one-on-one basis, I had the sense that the races worked together routinely well on the DMZ itself (at guard posts, together on patrols, etc) and I don’t recall individual conflicts other than when there were organized public events like the Yongiugol “rally.” Again, that’s my general memory of things. I think if something dramatically stood out that I would recall it with more clarity. 

Regarding Marijuana:

I don’t remember anything ever tightening up regarding the smoking of weed, though it was officially verboten.  You could easily get a big fat paper bag of grass for about $10 from any number of sources: a Korean houseboy at the barracks, a shop owner outside the front gate at Camp Casey or directly from one of the girls at a club, who would expect a tip for the convenient middle man service. The main hard drugs used at the time seemed to be Meth and Seconal. 

Itaewon:

I personally never visited Itaewon, which was a long and inconvenient bus ride away. The DMZ area, though only about 40 miles from Seoul, was considered to be in the boonies and anyone stationed in or near Yongsan was thought to have a cushy Korea tour assignment. Whatever I knew of Itaewon came from someone else’s stories. I do remember it being considered more expensive than the local village club district.  I believe that all the camp town club districts operated under similar un-written rules of conduct for GIs. The camp town culture was similar everywhere and had been honed and perfected since the 1950s.

Below is an answer to a question for those who have read the book, since it's certainly a spoiler.

Eddie’s Final Phone Call:

Yes, the young woman who return’s Eddie’s call was his daughter. I kept it vague and left it up to the reader to speculate if he realized this or not as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror having his heart attack while the phone rang. I like to believe that yes, he knew…but it was too late, of course. His daughter is among the visitors at the hospice.