What's a Tank?

In reading Ahn Junghyo's article A Double Exposure of the War, I got a taste of something rare. I got to taste war with a child's innocence's. I then got to see this child grow up, and become a soldier in a different war. But both wars had the same foreigners hands involved. America.

For Ahn Junghyo the communists of North Korea were greeted as liberators. He didn't really understand why. Then Americans arrived. They too were greeted as liberators. Junghyo like these foreigners. They gave out candy, helped immunize them to diseases, and were like Santa Clause. Yet, these Santa Clauses had the women hiding in fear. To Junghyo, this must have been some sort of game. But we know the truth. The Americans raped many Korean women in their efforts to "liberate" Korea. Something North Korea and Chinese forces tried not to do.

Then Junghyo became involved in Vietnam, and things got interesting. Korean forces largely felt they were doing what America did in the Korean War: liberate. But as Junghyo points out, maybe they imitated Americans too well, because Korean forces did rape in Vietnam. Koreans were drunk on the belief that they were like the invincible heroes of old. This idea also caused the Koreans to feel they never lost in Vietnam. Americans did sure, but not Koreans.

Here is the funny thing about war. What you may have fought someone to the death over in the past, wont necessarily make you their enemy in the future. That is what Junghyo learns upon his return to Vietnam twenty six years after he was in combat there. The communist "enemies" are in control of the country. Yet, he is treated like a friend. Someone who would have been shooting at most of the people he was sitting down drinking or eating with. Is it any wonder that Junghyo is confused?

Ahn Junghyo's final statement I find to be accurate, not only in a historical sense, but also as a current one. Here is a piece of his statement:

"War is futile; the enemy of yesterday does not remain an enemy forever. War is not flags of glory but waste filled with suffering and pain. It is fundamentally a human sickness camouflaged by the intricate workings of international interests and a beguiling rhetoric of abstract concepts" (Ahn 276).

The Confluence of Heinz Insu

In my reading of Memories of My Ghost Brother, my mind keeps circling back to the idea that Heinz Insu is a meeting place between two cultures. I should state this comes from my Havc. 80 class where the past lectures have been about composite cultures, but more specifically the Andean belief system of complementarity. I think Insu ties into this because he represents the connection between the European and Korean cultures, so in Andean terms he shows a "tinku," or a confluence and conjoing of complements. Even his name shows this because it is both a European and Korean name. The Andean belief system is very different than our own binary system where we don't have complements. The conjoining & coming together of complements and "hybridity" are viewed as powerful, so it is beneficial for Insu to be of two cultures. However, in this story, the binary system is more apparent so it shows how Insu can't fit into either of his cultures perfectly, he is an outsider. This gives Insu an interesting look into his world, but I think he stands out even more in his "father's world," when he first goes to American school because he doesn't has a full grasp on English. It didn't help Insu belong when then the school made the rule that they can only speak English while in school, which isn't right because they are taking away part of his inherent identity. I think this connects back into our binary system where English is viewed as the most important, so it comes at the cost of the second half of someone's identity. What right does the school have to say that the children aren't allowed to speak their native language? I mean, they need it in everyday life when they are not in school, so in the end it is still an important language that gives the Koreans more of an advantage. But even the fact that Insu thinks of the American school as his "father's world" and that he's "only trying to get by" shows that he is not as comfortable in this world as he is within the world he grew up in, even if he didn't quite fit-in in that world either (121). But he is still able to transition between his two worlds to make them both important parts of his everyday life, so he then enacts the idea of "tinku" between his two cultural identities. And if he is between these two cultures and identities, it would give him power in the Andean belief system.

Unwelcome Home

At first, I felt that the transition from reading War Trash to Home was a little bit rocky.  But looking back on my notes from the last couple of weeks, I’m actually seeing some pretty stark connections between these two protagonists’ dilemmas.  They both fought on what turned our to be an illegitimate “second front.”  

For Frank Money, the Korean War might be interpreted as a second front in America’s struggle against racism.  He tells us that Home is worse than the battlefield he faced in Korea, because at least in battle there is something to strive for -- “some chance of winning,” while in Lotus “there was no future . . . nothing to win” (83).  This might be interpreted as the illusion of upward mobility that many African-American integrated servicemen were led to believe in during the Korean War.  The chapter of Our Fight that we read explains this at length, and goes as far as to say that “when African Americans managed to secure promotions, they felt that they had beaten the odds and rejoiced that they had won ‘a battle in the continuing war against Jim Crow’” (171).  But as we saw in Home, the awards and promotions earned on the battlefield abroad failed to translate back in the U.S.  The medal that Frank won helped him evade the police once, but in general, he was not treated any more respect than when he left to go fight.  It was for this reason that some Americans, like Clarence Adams, decided not to return “home” after being released from POW camps.

Yuan from Ha Jin’s War Trash has a surprisingly similar struggle.  In his case, however, it is not race, but political ideology that separates him from most Chinese citizens.  In class we talked about the POW camps acting as a “second front” for the Korean War -- battles were waged and agreements made within them.  But when the troops returned to China, they were not given recognition by the Communist Party.  The narrator says: “In other words, he and we had all been chessmen on the Party’s board, though Pei had created his own board and placed his men on it as if his game had been identical with the Party’s.  In fact he too had been a mere pawn, not much different from any of us.  He too was war trash” (345).  Although it seemed that Pei’s actions in the camp were synonymous with Communist ideology, his accomplishments were ignored back in China and he was treated with distrust by the very people helped tried to support.  So in this case, like in Home, the second front turns out to be illegitimate.  Our narrator tells us, “... if only I had foreseen that home was no longer the same place.  Then at any cost I would have gone to a third country, where I could have lived as a countryless man . . .” (344).  For Yuan and Frank, Home is unwelcoming and they face it with many regrets.  This certainly tarnishes the popular portrayal of wars and the treatment of their veterans back home.

--Sarah T.

New South Korean President

South Korea's new president, Park Geun-hye, was sworn in today in front of over 70,000  people in Seoul.  Ostensibly she is a newcomer to Korean politics, but since she is the daughter of former South Korean dictator, Park Chung-hee, she has never been far from the Korean spotlight.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/feb/25/park-geun-hye-korean-president

This article from The Guardian describes her inaugural address, and quotes the new president proclaiming, "I will not tolerate any action that threatens the lives of our people and the security of the nation. I urge North Korea to abandon its nuclear ambitions without delay and embark on the path to peace and shared development."

This quote verbatim would not seem out of place had it been said by President Obama or a US diplomat. Regardless of what your views on nuclear proliferation are, comments like this infringe on the sovereignty of governments, as they proclaim what others can and can't have. The exact same tone is used when the US denounces Iran's nuclear program.

This article also brings in the North Korean perspective on the inauguration. Unlike the majority of the Western media, it cites a legitimate  North Korean grievance with South Korea and the US, writing, "North Korean state media marked her inauguration with a warning to the US and the South not to proceed with forthcoming military drills."

I think this article does a good job of placing Park Geun-hye's election and inauguration in historical context, as it also discusses her father's "brutal suppression of opponents during 18 years of rule that began with a military coup in 1961."

Questioning Freedom

Chef: You ever heard of the Emancipation Proclamation?
General: I don't listen to hip-hop!

Today's discussion had me remember the above image from South Park.  In this scene black soldiers were to be used as "human shields" to protect the white troops from getting shot. While this is fictional, I couldn't but help think of black servicemen questioning their role in the Korean War.

When you are denied freedoms at home, how can you fight for "freedom" somewhere else? This seems logical doesn't it? Yet, to question is to be labeled a communist sympathizer. If blacks are in the U.S.  and they questioned they could be outright killed. Its a no win situation. The Korean War made this even more obvious in the racism that was evident in the army. The Red Cross labeled blood based on race. MacArthur did nothing to stop the racism which divided the army. Blacks were often given jobs which were beneath their training and intelligence.

The morale of blacks in the army sunk. Rightfully so. To be segregated in your home state, then to be desegregated in the army, is giving blacks a sense of freedom. This sense of freedom is destroyed the moment a black veteran returns to the America. Black veterans who have risked their lives don't want to give up their freedom. Why should they? Because their skin isn't white? Because they are potentially descended from  slaves? Because they have faced death, rape, being robbed? This is nothing new to blacks, especially during the 1950s Jim Crow laws.

I would also like to point out that in the film The Steel Helmet, the North Korean officer asks the black medic how can he fight for the whites, when he faces such racism at home and in the army. He then goes on to ask the Japanese American how he too can fight for the whites despite how the whites of America treated his people during WWII, specifically putting them in internment camps.

It is questions like these which really raises the question: Is America fighting for freedom?

One of my other courses this quarter is Worldings with Cooppan, and the main topic we are going over is the idea of the network. One of our recent readings was Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, which is a dystopian portrait of a capitalist future, in which the country is basically run by corporations, and another plane of existence exists through the internet, in a place known as the Metaverse. One of the lifeforms that has appeared in this futuristic society is a "Rat Thing," and in class, we discussed how the  Rat Things are characterized more by what makes them not a rat than their one rat-like feature. "The body is Rottweiler-sized, segmented into overlapping hard plates like those of a rhinoceros. The legs are long, curled way up to deliver power, like a cheetah's. It must be the tail that makes people refer to it as a Rat Thing, because that's the only ratlike part - incredibly long and flexible" (Stephenson 94). Mandogi's case is that he is known for his personal decision to remain a temple hand rather than going out and creating an identity for himself in the world outside of the temple. So, networks function differently for the two.

Mandogi could be seen as a connection within a network, rather than a node, which the Rat Thing would be an example of. Whereas the Rat Thing gains its identity from all of the things which it is not but is compared to, I found that Mandogi, both before and after death, helped build a network. Mandogi's tale served as a form of inspiration for the other subaltern members of South Korean society at the time. But, at the same time, Mandogi can be seen as a node because the people he inspires are all connected by the idea of this one man, whose story reaches people on many levels because of his lack of solid identity.

In the same way that I question, "Why is it a 'Rat Thing,'" I wonder, "Why is it Mandogi?"

War: Death of Pawns

 
 Our discussion today brought up a topic which I have thought of before about war. War destroys lives, be it soldier or civilian. The above image I feel appeals to this, because the pawns have their graves already dug and filled before a match event starts. The pawns (soldiers) are sacrificed for the ideals and beliefs of the ones in power. The death tolls (in their horrific amounts) that are created by war are told in numbers. They are not told through images or stories about the common suffering of both soldier or civilians.

"The larger a victory is, the more people have been turned into numerals. This is the crime of war: it reduces real human beings to abstract numbers" (Ha Jin, 193).

This is abhorrently true. Each number lost in a battle is a single human life. That life has its own memories, beliefs, friends and family. But that life is now reduced to a little insignificant number to be shipped home in a body bag.  That life, I feel is also offered little choice in the matter of war. Yu Yuan is an example of this, in that the politic of the Korean War matter little to him. Yet he is conscripted as a "volunteer" and given little choice in the matter. Following his capture and becoming a POW he simply wants to go home. In talking with Father Woodworth Yuan learns that according to Woodworth any communist is considered evil by the U.S. Yuan points out that many Chinese soldiers are only communists because they want to return home. Woodsworth responds with "I understand it's a tough choice, but life is full of choices." Yuan counters with "For most of us there's no choice" (Ha Jin, 81). 

As human society has evolved, so has war. War has become so technical that it has reduced human life to numbers. The larger the number, the more one side is "winning." The ability to  make choices is also impacted, in that during war, personal rights are nullified. POW's are massacred and leaders among them are labeled as "war criminals." War is the the great destroyer, yet it is human beings that make war possible.

"Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men." (Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Is there anything left to sanction in North Korea?

Foreign Policy Magazine posted an article on their website today entitled "Is there anything left to sanction in North Korea?"   I found this quote particularly interesting:

The 800-pound gorilla in the debate about the effectiveness of any sanctions is China. By the end of 2010, the last date for which there are records, China's trade with North Korea had boomed, surpassing $3.06 billion, up nearly 10 percent over 2008, according to figures cited by a U.N. panel monitoring enforcement of the North Korea sanctions.

At the conclusion of the article, George Lopez, a professor of peace studies at Notre Dame University, said that the sanctions would be more effective if China enforced them, and that the U.S. needs to convince China that they won't cause the downfall of the North Korean economy by enforcing the sanctions.  I thought this was a strange thing to say, since enforcing all the sanctions target the North Korean economy.

Music in North Korea

In the spirit of Callum's post, and given the significance of music/song in The Guest, I wanted to share an article with you about changes in the musical repertoire of North Korea's orchestras.  Earlier this year the BBC interviewed a German conductor who has traveled and performed in North Korea on multiple occasions and has worked with musicians in Pyongyang.  He says that the city has changed dramatically since 2006, becoming more open to western culture. I thought his comments on the musical changes were especially intriguing:

"North Korean musicians are desperate for repertoire. The whole of 20th Century music is unknown territory. So we brought a piece by Witold Lutoslawski, who will be celebrating his 100th birthday next year. And we also brought music from 250 years ago - a Haydn symphony.  The university students copied out their parts from the music through the night on the day of our arrival. This is what they have done on all my previous visits. The music from those visits has now found its way into their curriculum - Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Stravinsky."

For me, this article had a lot of problematic moments like the one quoted above.  The conductor obviously had a lot of preconceptions about the music/musicians in Pyongyang, as you might detect in his patronizing tone.  The full article can be found here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-20773542

I tried to find a recording of the concert that the German and Pyongyang orchestras did together, but couldn’t.  So instead, I found a North Korean channel on YouTube (uriminzokkiri) that features a few musical performances.  Here is a link to one that sounds like more traditional, non-western music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9yVowqiAOK4

I have no idea the significance of this piece, or its origins.  But I think it might be interesting to pursue the kinds of musical performances taking place today in North Korea, and their connection to western influence.

--Sarah T.

An everlasting ghost

I find Mandogi's ending up as a "ghost" ironic because he was able to get the last say even though he was "only a temple hand" in real life. Mandogi's good actions upon other people was not as recognized in life as something for other people to aspire to, but instead people were confused by these actions. Which lead to them making fun of him, but once he turned into a ghost, rumors of his good deeds spread. Mandogi ending up as a ghost is also ironic because these rumors spread, but they included snippets of actual events in Mandogi's life. Like, "refusing to point the gun at the partisan in the substation" even if it lead to what they believed was his execution (114).

Mandogi may have been nothing much in real life, but his ghost stories turned him into a kind of legend for the people. The ghost stories allowed this 'nobody' to turn into something more that will transcend his eventual death. In the end he turned into an inspiration for people who would not have thought of him as such in real life. I like the part about his ghost stories being "put away for safekeeping in the people's bag of stories" because it means he will continue being an inspiration for other people (114). It shows that he matters, and that there was something about him that other people were able to relate to. Or otherwise, ghost stories would not have been created around him. It works best for a 'nobody' to become a ghost and have rumors begin to spread because there are many more "nobodies' in society versus the powerful 'somebodies,' who would have no use for ghost stories. Mandogi can live on in some form, which means he clearly represents the 'nobodies' of society through the telling of  "The Curious Tale of Mandogi's Ghost."

The New Capitalists?

Last week's issue of The Economist featured an article about North Korea entitled "The New Capitalists".  The article describes a so-called "revolutionary force" of "traders and merchants" that is beginning to emerge in North Korea.  The report is interesting in many ways, chronicling how this new emergent merchant class was created during the famine of the 1990s.

Nevertheless, the article wholly embodies the patronizing and sardonic tone the West adapts when discussing North Korea.  It begins with references to Kim Jong-Un as the "boy-dictator" and then pokes fun at the rarity of a, "well-stocked Pyongyang supermarket".  It proclaims that the best way to deal with North Korea is to, "undermine the regime, as the West did in eastern Europe during the Cold War".  This article, like so much of Western culture, sees free-market capitalism as the victorious, final stage of global economics, impervious to change or improvement.

And like so much discourse on North Korea found in the mainstream media, this article fails to contextualize North Korea in global history, asserting that it is merely a "repressive and backward" nation, that has isolated itself purely out of its ruler's maniacal ignorance.

A link to the article can be found here.

Politics of Recognition in They Chose China

Mike Wallace:  [Do the Red Chinese] believe in our freedoms?

David Hawkins: No.  To them, it’s much different.  And uh, we have an aggressive government who’s always hunting for war…

MW: Do you believe the United States should recognize Red China?

DH: Personally, I think they should.

MW: Why?

DH: It’s a very big thing.  They have a very large land area, a 650 million Chinese population, and it’s like, uh, like saying there’s a… it’s a big elephant in the room and saying he’s not there until he becomes powerful enough to step on you.

MW:  Do you expect that they will become powerful enough to step on us?

DH: I have no doubt.

-They Chose China, 43:00-44:30

When I watched this exchange between Mike Wallace and David Hawkins in They Chose China, I thought about the idea of politics of recognition and how it related to the Cold War attitudes towards China.  Now, it seems ridiculous to “not recognize” China, but Mike Wallace talks about nonrecognition as the norm, and recognition as subversive.  The interview is conducted like an interrogation.  When Wallace asks a question, the camera zooms in very closely to Hawkins’ face, drawing the audience’s attention to his nervousness and the sweat on his forehead and suggesting his guilt.  In this passage, Wallace focuses on Hawkins’ willingness to recognize the existence of an enormous country with different ideologies than the U.S., asking, “Do you believe the United States should recognize Red China?”  However, he doesn’t acknowledge or accept Hawkins’ full explanation of how large China is, but focuses instead on the suggestion that China could become a threat, leading the audience to believe that there are good reasons for not recognizing China.  Wallace’s interrogation-like interview reflects the attitudes of McCarthyism by acknowledging different ideologies only to demonize them.

In the clips of the interview shown in They Chose China, Wallace does not attempt to understand Hawkins’ point of view.  He doesn’t use the common interviewing technique of reflecting back what the interviewee has said and validating or contextualizing their point of view for the audience.  Instead, he continuously asks questions, one after the other, without responding to anything that Hawkins says.  In this way, Wallace’s interview with Hawkins could be seen as a microcosm of U.S.’s failure to recognize China (and the Americans who chose to live in China).  By having Hawkins on his show, Wallace recognizes Hawkins on some level, but in the interview, through his questions, language, and angle, he ends up being dismissive towards his perspective.  After reading Mike Wallace’s biography on Wikipedia, I learned that, during his time with CBS, this acknowledging-and-dismissing tactic came up more than once.  In 1967, Wallace anchored a documentary called, CBS Presents: The Homosexuals, where he said, “The average homosexual… is not interested or capable of a lasting relationship like that of a heterosexual marriage.”  Just like the Hawkins interview, Wallace recognizes the existence of gay people by anchoring a documentary called The Homosexuals, but then dismisses them by suggesting that their relationships are substandard compared to heterosexual couples, and that they aren’t as “capable” as heterosexual people.  Wallace’s eagerness to repeatedly define otherized groups to himself and his audience without actually listening to their perspectives reveals the tendency of the majority to legitimize their own power by diminishing the narratives of the Other.

All and Everything

"'Fire on everything! Fire on everything! Kill 'em all!' I shot too, I shot at the people. I didn't know if they was soldiers or what. Kids, there were kids out there. It didn't matter what it was: eight, eighty, blind, crippled or crazy. They shot them. Joe Jackman (Kill 'em All 21:03-21:29)

This is an excerpt from one of the testimonies that really stuck out to me. As select lines from this excerpt are repeated more than once in this short film, there is clearly some significance that can be placed on them. Above all else, what these lines prove to me is the evident indiscretion that was exercised in handling these refugees. According to Jackman, the exact words of his lieutenant were "Fire on everything" and "Kill them all." With the language choice of everything and all, one can conclude that this lieutenant was not concerned with weeding out refugees from potential North Korean soldiers but instead chose the easier though tactless route of firing on all and everything. And as for the testimonies of the higher-ups in our readings this week (who defended their commands by stating that a group of refugees without women and children meant North Korean soldiers in disguise), they are plainly contradict by Jackman's testament that there were in fact "kids out there." But just in case there was need for clarification as to who fell into the category of all and everything, Jackman elaborates on all and everything to include individuals that were between eight or eighty or who were "blind, crippled or crazy." North Korea, South Korea, communist, refugee, "It didn't matter what it was."

 "You can't forget, no matter how much you try, no matter how much medication you take. It's there, it just eats you alive... We were in hell and we only made it half way back."
Buddy Wenzel (Kill 'em All 45:42-46:02)

I feel incredibly insensitive saying this but this is my favorite excerpt from this documentary. I find this statement so powerful, raw, and honest. It strikes me at my core and brings out the sheer empathy that I feel for not only Wenzel but for all of the other veterans of this war. This, for me, challenges the idea that The Korean War is "The Forgotten War" because there are clearly veterans out there like Wenzel that simply cannot forget. "No matter how much [they] try, no matter how much medication [they] take." Undoubtedly Wenzel is speaking from experience, surely he has tried to forget and has even taken medication to forget but he remains haunted. How many more must be eaten alive by the guilt that they feel and, like Wenzel, have only made it "half way back" from the hell they were in? This is something that I plan to discuss in my final paper.
- Patricia Ledezna

Testing Grounds Of A Would Be Emprie

 The above image I found after reading Bruce Cumings article Occurrence at Nogun-Ri Bridge: An Inquiry into the History and Memory of a Civil War. I found it to be troubling, in that it is true. America has the very bad habit (putting it lightly) of brutally oppressing and killing those they seek to "liberate." I ask why? Largely, it stems I feel from the position of power, and racism which has for a long time been imbedded in America's psyche.

Following WWII, America now had a firm foothold in SEA (South East Asia) in the form of a occupied Japan. This was now prime time for the U.S. to expand its interests in SEA. This would be under the guise of expanding Freedom and Democracy. Korea provided the perfect testing ground for America's interest, in the form of combating communism. The Korean War began in 1950 (or 1945 depending on what you believe) and ended in 1953. Ultimately, Korea would result in a failure, or part success, as South Korea was created under the form of a democracy, but was in truth a dictatorship backed and created by America.

Two years later, in 1955, The Vietnam War broke out, under much the same ideals and principles that happened in The Korean War. America "intervened" to combat the spread of communism, and bring freedom and democracy to South Vietnam. See a trend? "Misjudgements also grew out of the ubiquitous racism of white Americans and of American society in 1950" (Cumings 198).

 In light of two countries which America has thrust its hands into, that have been divided, physically, and ideologically, I must ask, is this an example of capitalism, or imperialism? Is this the actions of a nation that is seeking to bring freedom to others, or use others to expand its own interests. Because the amount of dodging the topic which America has done, the hiding of evidence of war crimes, would suggest the former. Fredric Jameson writes "The Vice of Anglo-Saxon empiricism lies...in its stubborn will to isolate the object in question from everything else...Such thinking is characterized by a turning away of the eye, a preference for segments and isolated objects, as a means to avoid observation of those larger wholes and totalities which if they had to be seen would force the mind in the long run into uncomfortable social and political conclusions" (Cumings 201).

https://www.dropbox.com/s/7oehz0016q77dbj/AnUnattachedUnit.m4v

So I download An Unattached Unit in Mchenry Library with this link to make sure it is possible. The link only shows a 15 minute preview but the entire film can be watched by pressing download and waiting twenty or so minutes. There is a lot to compare and contrast between this movie and Piagol. Sorry for prior confusion. Hope it works!

Kill 'em All

Watching the documentary, Kill ‘em All, evokes a mix of emotions, but it’s also a reminder that war is about intelligence and the management of information, both during and after the war. The film claims that there are a recorded 61 instances of American attacks against civilians during the Korean War, but only one of those has been recognized by the U.S. government. Even then, acknowledgement of the No Gun Ri massacre didn’t come until 2001, more than 50 years after it happened, and in the form of a report that conveniently sidesteps all responsibility by claiming it was not deliberate, but a tragic, unintended symptom of war violence.

The suspicious circumstances surrounding the creation of the report was frustrating to hear about, like the fact that the communication log for the 7^th cavalry was missing, making it impossible to officially confirm whether or not there were orders to kill civilians. At best, this is unacceptable negligence; at worst, it’s foul play, an attempt by the Pentagon to mask premeditated violence against civilians and, thus, a war crime (though I think it’s pretty clear that the convenient disappearance of a vital document means the Pentagon was trying to hide the facts and protect the U.S. from being exposed).

These issues raise questions about the control of information and the reinforcement of specific versions of war and history. The lack of accountability on the government’s behalf is telling because it means that they are protecting their own war narrative and preventing any deviance from it, this at the cost of those who were targeted in the attack. The truth (and trauma) of war atrocities is left to its survivors and witnesses, whose voices do not have the same authority and access to a wider reception. So the government's lack of accountability for its mistakes, war crimes, and outright cruel acts of violence is part of its management of information as a technology of war. Preventing the U.S. from looking like the aggressors, rather than the protectors of Korean civilians, is a useful strategy even years after the Korean War. I think the documentary, then, highlights how big of a role information and its disbursement (or containment) plays in war and power, and the injustice of this information being lost to the past and left to survivors to deal with.

The Nightmare of Nogun Ri

Kill Em All was very startling; it is hard to understand what happened completely in Nogun Ri. Too many lives were changed and lost just from this single instant, let alone if you combine every moment of the Korean War. Kill Em All showed how afraid the refugees were, but even more than that how afraid and nervous the soldiers were who were there to "protect" civilians. The 7th Cavalry let their fears get the better of them, so it caused a killing frenzy that lead to an inexplicable amount of pain and suffering, and death to befall the refugees. The film says that we may never know the true death toll of Nogun Ri, but the fact that 3/4 of the refugees killed were children, women, and men over 40 creates an even more tragic telling of Nogun Ri. It is hard to think about all the innocent children who lost their lives at Nogun Ri because they never had a chance to grow up and fulfill their dreams.

The shooting frenzy of Nogun Ri is haunting because a single blast, that landed in the middle of the group of refugees, set-off the shooting frenzy of the 7th Cavalry. I know that the soldiers were put into a tough situation, but now they will forever be haunted by this atrocity they were a part of. These soldiers will forever hold the guilt of what happened to the innocent refugees. As one soldier says, “you can’t forget” and this knowledge of crimes against humanity “eats you alive.” But I have a hard time understanding what exactly made the soldiers react so violently to a group of refugees to continue shooting and shooting, especially once the refugees scattered. The refugees were already running for their lives, but because of this they became shooting targets for the soldiers.

A scene that occurred before the shooting frenzy that also stunned me was when the soldier related how his commander told him to shoot at a group of refugees, and if he didn't comply the commander would shoot the soldier instead. I find this scary because a soldier has to follow orders, but this kind of order goes against humanity. In this case, it didn't end tragically because the soldier's friend only shot a "warning shot," and the refugees got the message that they needed to get off the road. But something like this shouldn't have happened in the first place, the refugees lives were already changed because they had to flee from their homes. The refugees were already suffering enough, so each uncompromising act of the army created even more suffering.  
~Melissa

Trauma and Survival in Nogun Ri

"The floor inside the tunnel was a mix of gravel and sand.  People clawed with their bare hands to make holes to hide in. Other people piled up the dead bodies like a barricade, and hid behind the bodies as a shield against the bullets… A baby boy's mother was killed during the strafing on the rail track.  The father managed to get the baby to the tunnel, but the boy was hungry and frightened.  He cried and cried.  And the American troops fired their guns into the tunnel whenever the boy cried.  The bullets fired in the direction of the crying.  People screamed that more would be shot if the baby kept crying.  The father didn't know what to do.  He might have thought the baby would die anyway, but he decided to silence it, in order to save the others.  He took the boy to the back of the tunnel and pushed him face-down into a pool of water.  I watched him doing that, and thought, 'What could be more tragic than this?'" (Kill 'em All 23:21-25:00)

In Kill 'em All, when the Nogun Ri survivor said that "the American troops fired their guns into the tunnel whenever the boy cried," I was really stunned over how cruel and senseless the actions of the American troops were, and what a grievous violation of the Geneva Convention the Nogun Ri massacre was.  Hearing the accounts of the survivors in this documentary contrasted with the accounts of the veterans was also very interesting, because it showed how much trauma the war produced for all parties, especially for Korean refugees.  This made me think about how people experienced and survived so many traumatic events in the Korean War.

The images of refugees fleeing the front reminded me of the images in Tae Guk Gi, of everyone leaving their houses in huge groups, carrying their possessions on their backs.  While Tae Guk Gi showed some of the hardships of evacuating, it didn't show how refugees were targeted in U.S. strafing, which made evacuating so dangerous.  When the Nogun Ri survivor asked, "'What could be more tragic than this?'" I thought about all the loss that particular family had endured because of the war.  The father of the baby lost his home, his wife, and his child.  If he survived, he would be haunted by all these traumatic losses– especially having to kill his own child to save others– for the rest of his life.  All these traumatic events make it so difficult for refugees, or anyone involved in the war, to survive, not only physically, but emotionally, and it also makes it hard for a country as a whole to recover.