9. Jongpan River
After six months of rigorous and arduous training, the new soldiers were finally deployed. Naturally, a military oath ceremony was conducted in front of the military flag.
My initial deployment was with the 122mm plain artillery battalion (112mm 평사포대대), operating under the direct command of the 832nd Division. Subsequently, the unit transitioned to the 100mm no-rigid artillery (무강선포). Currently, North Korea emphasizes that leader Kim Jong Un has served in artillery units (포병부대) for many years, highlighting the significant role artillery plays in modern warfare. The battalion I was assigned to comprised three companies and a direct command platoon (직속 지휘 소대). Over time, it expanded to include four companies and one command platoon.
The battalion commander (대대장) at that time, appearing to be in his late 40s or early 50s, was Hong Dae-hyun. He sported a distinguished beard and spoke with a northern dialect, suggesting a possible origin from Hamgyeongnam-do. As a leader, he demonstrated clear decision-making skills and adeptness in managing various situations. While he maintained strict discipline, he also exuded a sense of camaraderie, making one feel akin to a friendly drinking companion or an elder brother in daily interactions.
As a 17-year-old novice soldier deployed to the unit and with less than a month’s experience, I found myself appointed as the battalion commander Hong Dae-hyun’s personal Liaison soldier (연락병). In times of conflict, Liaison soldiers are tasked with remaining constantly by the battalion commander’s side, fulfilling military duties. However, during peacetime, my role was to stay within a company and ensure the prompt and accurate delivery of the battalion commander’s orders to each company commander. This included tasks such as coordinating outdoor movement training or emergency call-up drills (비상소집훈련), as well as overseeing the cleanliness and organization of the battalion commander’s office.
I always believed that it was Hong Dae-hyun’s kindness and trust in me that led to my appointment as a liaison officer, despite my status as a novice with limited understanding of military protocols and the overall command structure within the battalion. Even to this day, I fondly remember him and the opportunity he gave me.
The company consists of a total of 14 squad leaders (분대장) and sub-squad leaders (부분대장) across seven squadrons (분대), with a total of 16 non-commissioned officers, including one accountant officer (sanitary instructor) and the head of non-commissioned officers (중대사관장). With approximately 50 members in the company, roughly 34 are soldiers and 16 non-commissioned officers (사관). Non-commissioned officers are comprised of a staff sergeant (하사), a sergeant first class (중사), a master sergeant (상사), and a special sergeant (특무상사). A staff sergeant (하사) serves as a sub-squad leader (부분대장), a sergeant first class as a squad leader (분대장), and a master sergeant as a sub-platoon leader (부소대장). The head of non-commissioned officers (중대사관장) oversees and directs all personnel in the company, except for the 5-6 officers, and holds the military rank of special sergeant. However, the military rank system in North Korea has undergone some changes compared to 40 years ago when I served.
One of the most memorable moments of my military service was when I was promoted from soldier to corporal (상등병), and when I received a commendation vacation for excellence in combat, political training, work, and life (though I didn’t utilize the vacation time awarded).
The Military Title Ceremony (군사칭호수여식), awarded under the Military Service Ordinance (군사복무조례), holds a special place in my memory as it marked my promotion to corporal, just six months after joining the army.
During my early days in the military, I was fortunate to have the support of many guiding hands, much like the meticulous care behind a beautifully tended garden by a skilled horticulturist. Just as a hero is backed by the love and guidance of their mother and teacher, I was led by numerous individuals who extended their help and support from the onset of my enlistment.
I express my gratitude not only to Battalion Commander Hong Dae-hyun but also to Ahn Kwan-hi, my initial company commander. Also coming from Kanggye, Jagang Province, he displayed both strength and kindness. Later, he married a woman who had previously worked as a typist for the Jagang party committee. She was a tall woman with an admirable figure.
Occasionally, she showed me more affection than even the company commander, demonstrating genuine sincerity by readily assisting me with any tasks when I visited her home on behalf of the company commander.
In military circles, it’s often said that a company commander, being a military leader, is akin to a father or elder brother figure, while the company political commissar (중대정치지도원), responsible for cultivating party political ideology, is regarded as the nurturing mother and elder sister of the company.
One day, I was summoned to the company office by Political Commissar Choi Young-il. As I carefully knocked on the door and entered with a crisp salute, he warmly invited me to take a seat.
Over the course of our hour-long conversation, he posed numerous inquiries and shared insights. He delved into details about my family, including my parents, siblings, and relatives, as well as my life before joining the military. It was evident that he had thoroughly reviewed my pre-military evaluation prior to our meeting.
He then assigned me the task of crafting a poem within a week and presenting it to the company the following week. The poem I penned during that time was titled “The Country I Protected.”
In the quiet embrace of the dew-kissed trenches, under the starry canopy of night,
I stand, heart tethered to my homeland,
Enveloped by the glow of the party’s central beacon,
Cradled in the arms of our leader and the party,
Whose embrace shapes our destiny and charts our future.
It was a deeply moving and emotionally charged lyrical composition, reflective of my profound sentiments towards my country and its guardianship.
A week later, during the Saturday evening’s company cultural entertainment event, both the company commander and the political commissar postponed their departure to attend in person. My poetry recitation became yet another milestone in my personal growth.
Thus, my life within Company 1 of the 122mm anti-tank artillery battalion, nestled at the foot of the Jeongpan River, took on its own distinct trajectory.
During that period, there were four to five non-commissioned officers nearing discharge from the company, among whom the image of the Leader of Non-commissioned Officers, Park Ji-gang, remained vivid in my memory.
Hailing from Sinuiju, North Pyongan Province, Park Ji-gang not only held the position of Leader of Non-commissioned Officers but also served as the chairman of the Sarochong Committee within the company. (*Sarochong: Chosen Socialist Laboratory Youth Federation)
It was widely believed that soldiers who enlisted between 1968 and 1973 were the strongest within the North Korean army during that era. Rumors even circulated in North Korea suggesting that South Korean President Park Chung-hee harbored a particular fear of North Korean enlistment students from 1973.
As a young soldier, I was in awe of the toughness and resilience exhibited by the soldiers of the particular year, 1973. They appeared rugged and formidable, often sporting unshaven beards, a testament to their years of rigorous military service. However, when they entered the training grounds, they transformed into fearsome tigers. No amount of pleading or tears from their subordinates could sway their unwavering discipline.
One vivid memory that still resonates with me is that of a sub-squad leader (부분대장) named Kim Joong-hoe, who moved with the agility and grace of a monkey swinging effortlessly from branch to branch. His gymnastic prowess surpassed even that of the national team athletes showcased on television. Despite his impressive abilities, he was unrelenting in his demands on his team. If any member failed to execute pull-ups correctly, he would drag them to the gym late at night, securing their wrists to the iron bar with a backpack strap, subjecting them to hours of grueling training.
Another squad leader imposed even harsher training methods, accusing us of participating half-heartedly in hand-to-hand combat training (손칼타격훈련) despite bearing wounds from previous sessions. He would grind glass powder and spray it on the striking zone, forcing us to endure the pain as we practiced. Additionally, for training in iron fist techniques, he punched holes with nails into a thin tin plate, instructing us to strike it repeatedly, further testing our resolve and endurance.
Forty years later, the scars on my fists, particularly on my right fist and defensive left arm, still bear witness to the trials endured during those days. A steadfast slogan resonated throughout the North Korean military then and now: “Training is also a battle.” This mantra underscores the notion that the sweat shed on the training ground during peacetime serves as a substitute for the blood spilled in wartime.
The size of a company can vary, but the artillery company to which I belonged typically comprised 50-60 personnel, whereas infantry units could accommodate up to 120-130 individuals. In such a dynamic, it was particularly challenging to fulfill their roles when the Squad Leader or Sub-squad Leader assumed the role of Chairperson of the Company’s Sarochong Committee because exerting political and ideological influence over superiors is not easy. Consequently, it became customary for the leader of non-commissioned officers also to serve as the chairman of the Company’s Sarochong Committee, tasked with cultivating the political and ideological culture within the company.
Following my poetry recitation, a pivotal moment unfolded during the Company’s Party Leadership Meeting convened at the Central Committee. At this gathering, I, a sub-squad leader, was nominated as the chairperson of the company’s Sarochong committee. The meeting was orchestrated by the Political Commissar, who is also the Secretary of the Company’s Party Cell(중대당세포비서).
Only a few months into my tenure within the company, I found myself entrusted with the responsibility of chairing the Company’s Sarochong Committee, a role previously held by the departing Leader of Non-commissioned Officers. This elevation was made possible through the unwavering support and confidence of Political Commissar Choi Young-il. However, it’s crucial to acknowledge the significant role played by Park Ji Gang, the esteemed Leader of Non-commissioned Officers, whose guidance and influence were instrumental in shaping my trajectory within the company.
Within the company, there were four early service officers (초기복무사관) tasked with driving trucks carrying wagons. Typically, these individuals were married with children in their 40s, holding ranks of either special sergeant or master sergeant. One notable figure among them was special sergeant Go Jun-ryul, a tall and composed individual renowned for his prowess as a fisherman.
Located approximately 2km away from our battalion was the Eobusan Reservoir (어부산저수지), a sizable lake spanning a width of 600 to 700m. This reservoir was known to harbor a fish species called “jachi,” rumored to pose a threat to humans. Although I never witnessed it, I, instead, saw and ate 18 kg white salmon he caught and shared with me:
One holiday, I got time off from the company commander and joined him. We went to see a huge fish he caught in the reservoir. The fish was so big that we needed a 2-meter-long wooden club to carry it home. It hung from the club, measuring about 1.7 meters in length. The body of the fish was as big as a teenager, and its head was as large as a water bucket.
When we got to his home and began preparing the fish, I noticed he was using a small hand axe instead of a kitchen knife. The spine fin ray was about 15 cm long and as thick as a chopstick. The flesh was about 30 cm wide, stretching the length of 1.7 meters from head to tail.
As we cut the fish into pieces with the hand axe, the meat looked more like pork than fish due to its fluffy reddish texture. That evening, Special Sergeant Goh praised my help and suggested we have a drink. He expertly made sashimi from the tail, which is known for being the most delicious part, and we enjoyed it as a tasty side dish.
When I inquired about why the tail part of the fish was so delicious, he explained that the flesh around the tail, spanning 10-20cm, is particularly chewy and flavorful. This is because it undergoes a lot of movement from the tail fins, swinging left and right when swimming or rotating rapidly back and forth.
That experience of tasting the white salmon lingered in my memory, likely because it was both my first and last encounter with such a delicacy. I visited Goh’s house around 5-6 times after that before eventually ceasing my visits altogether.
Goh’s wife, petite with a charming face, had a fondness for drinking. On several occasions, I went to their home on errands for Goh. However, each time I visited, she greeted me warmly and displayed an unusually high level of kindness towards me. Initially, I dismissed it, attributing her behavior to her naturally open demeanor.
As time passed, her behavior grew increasingly odd. She would touch me strangely, ask about my food preferences at odd times, and insist I stay longer for drinks, behaving in a way that even someone with poor awareness of sexual boundaries would find abnormal.
Feeling uncomfortable and ashamed, I couldn’t shake the troubling thoughts from my mind. She was a married woman and a mother with a husband and children, while I was young and had a long journey ahead of me. Just thinking about her actions made my face flush with embarrassment, and I found myself troubled even when alone.
Eventually, I stopped visiting Goh’s house altogether. One day, Goh asked why I hadn’t been coming around. He mentioned that his wife had also noticed my absence and asked about it. But when he pressed her for details, she brushed it off as insignificant. However, her behavior suggested otherwise, as if she were holding a grudge against someone. Goh asked if there had been any conflict between me and his wife or if something bad had happened.
I managed to force a smile and wrapped up the conversation positively, expressing gratitude for how kind she had been to me. Looking back, I believe I handled the situation appropriately both then and now.