"Diary of a Boy Soldier"
"소년병의 일기" (문학)
Munhak: 230 pp., 10,000 won
Various works in literature depict the reality of war in modern history. But rarely do we see such a vivid and thorough record such as Park Myung-kun's ``Diary of a Boy Soldier'' (Munhak: 230 pp., 10,000 won), a journal he kept on a day-to-day basis as a teenage corporal during the Korean War (1950-53). More than just a valuable historical record, it is a testimony to the human spirit and its strength to survive.
Before taking us to the battlefield, Park introduces early 20th-century Korea under Japanese colonial rule. The joy of liberation (1945) and finally being able to read and write in Korean at school were short-lived, however. The inter-Korean conflict broke out in the summer of 1950, and Park was forever separated from his family, ``not knowing it would be my last farewell… not having had a chance to hold their hand or hug goodbye like they would nowadays.'' After surviving the war, he would fulfill his childhood plans to become a doctor and immigrate to the United States. Now, aged 73, the retired professor lives in Texas.
Doctor Park Myung-kun, top left, was 17 years old when he served in the South Korean armed forces 1950-52. He chronicled the 20 months in a diary./ Courtesy of MunhakPark's story stretches across important moments and places in modern Korean history, from colonization all the way to the Korean Diaspora. Moreover, it is an extraordinary tale of endurance ― both physical and moral.
Born in North Korea in 1934, Park was ``the baby of the family,'' he told The Korea Times in a recent e-mail interview. Communists took away his eldest brother and his family had no news of his other brother who was studying in Seoul. As the only son at the time, Park said he felt a ``duty to take revenge'' and voluntarily joined the 6th division of the South Korean army at the tender age of 16. They were recruiting North Korean youths who could speak the northern dialect, and one entry shows how soldiers sometimes had difficulty communicating.
Park and others joined the armed forces completely untrained, except for some basic knowledge of handling rifles. ``I was in a way forced to be brave, although deep in my heart, I was scared most of the time,'' he explained in the interview. The harsh reality of war was omnipresent, and four comrades were killed just a few days into his military life. No one is to be trusted at the front, where the enemy hired toddlers to poison soldiers.
He said one of the most terrifying moments was when he had to flee an attack barefoot on a snowy day ― his boots were too large and were more of a hindrance. Fortunately, he had an extra pair of socks.
Surviving on the Front
Early entries trace the route of Park's infantry. He smartly kept track by locating the address signs of abandoned houses. We see how these young men made their way through rough times, taking whatever they could, like toothpaste in abandoned houses, and catching fish using grenades. The helmet doubled as washing bowls, food bowls and even pillows. Unable to bathe or change, lice would add to the discomfort.
While striking in factual detail, the diaries are marked by a sense of detachment. About six months into warfare, Park writes about being bothered by the stench of rotting corpses. When asked if the sight shocked him, he said: ``Perhaps I had become insensitive about death... I got used to seeing dead bodies. I knew that if I died, my body may become like one of these bodies but I did not want to think about it much.
While striking in factual detail, the diaries are marked by a sense of detachment. About six months into warfare, Park writes about being bothered by the stench of rotting corpses. When asked if the sight shocked him, he said: ``Perhaps I had become insensitive about death... I got used to seeing dead bodies. I knew that if I died, my body may become like one of these bodies but I did not want to think about it much.
``This was when I was on the very front line where life meant very little. Frankly, I did not feel many emotions those days. Having an emotion or deep thought was a luxury. When you know you may disappear from this world at any minute, the only thing you have is the basic instinct of survival,'' he said, adding that emotional detachment is perhaps a ``protective mechanism'' that enables people to ``endure unimaginable hardships.''
What is most remarkable about the diary is that Park managed to write almost everyday. ``I did not want to stop (writing the diary), because even though I was not certain if I would be alive the next day, there still was a thin line of hope that I could survive the war and show my parents the diary,'' he said.
He further explained in the interview that he had a good fountain pen and was able to obtain good quality paper from an empty house. ``There was always a quiet moment even on difficult days,'' and he often grabbed a minute before dark using candlelight.
Doctor Park, top left, poses with fellow soldiers near Nakdong River in Gupo, Busan, May 1952. Courtesy of Munhak
The diary entries chronicling his 20 months as a soldier (1950-52) are laid out with additional notes. Archaic or dialectic terms were changed, and some names were switched, in which case there are explanations.
Less than a year on the frontline, Park suffered a wound below his knee and was hospitalized for several months in what used to be a school building. The entries become more introspective as he spends each day listlessly, reading novels or watching movies to chase away the loneliness.
His longing for family would peak on holidays like Chuseok (Thanksgiving) and when other patients would have visitors. Occasionally Catholic nuns would stop by on an evangelistic mission. One touching entry is about mouth-watering persimmons. Usually visitors would share food with neighboring patients, but Park was unfortunately two beds away. Ever since, he would indulge in the sweet fruit whenever he could and even grew a persimmon tree in the yard of his U.S. home.
Meanwhile, fear of being crippled by the knee seized him, but the possibility of being discharged from military service also boggled him: what lay ahead for an ``orphaned'' 17-year-old? But he would recover and return to the army. Yet the ruthless cruelness from senior soldiers would strengthen his determination to leave and become a doctor. As a young boy living in a Stalinist state, he realized early on that doctors had comparatively more freedom.
Becoming an American Doctor
But all was not lost for Park. Though devastated to learn that his parents and nephews were unable to cross down to the South, he reunited with his sister and brother. He went back to school and made what he calls a ``miraculous'' entry to Seoul National University medical school. During his residency, he was encouraged to apply for the Educational Council for Foreign Medical Graduates program, which granted him residency in America.
When asked about pursuing medicine, he said, ``I thought my experience in the army would pull me through the long duration of medical school. I believe my experience of hardship during my military service gave me confidence, taught me to be patient, and to work hard for whatever I chose to do.''
The doctor arrived in the United States in 1962, and obtained his pediatrics degree after years of struggling with English and a tight budget. He met his Korean wife, a schoolteacher. In 1991, he won the Presidential Award for Excellence in Teaching from the University of Texas at San Antonio, and in 2005 he received a special honor from the Seoul National University medical school alumni association.
Park wishes to tell young people one thing: ``Do not be disheartened by reality, but don't be satisfied by reality, either. Always dream big and make constant effort to achieve it. Heaven helps those who help themselves.''
