At a Refugees' Camp

11
The Dung Fields in Cheongdo, 1950


There was an evident look of bewilderment on Toung Doung's face when he returned after he had taken a look at a village beyond the valley mountain. He saw that the whole village had been evacuated. "We must leave!" he declared solemnly.

There was a melee. The whole family had to do a rush job of packing. The old cow had to carry the heaviest load in which there were packed some bedding, husked rice and barley, some utensils and salt. Toung Doung had to carry his grandma in her eighties on the wooden A-frame. Dano and his mother and grandma had their own share of the load. Dusk was around the corner when all the packings were done, them getting ready for a refuge trip.

Darkness was soon to fall. Toung Doung decided on an overnight stay at a safer place somewhere in the valley. How sad that one had to realize that one's house was the most dangerous place in the whole world. Toung Doung took the family to the place which he had set his eyes on.

It was an old cave, of which the road leading to it was covered with overgrown thorny bushes and reeds. Toung Doung found the opening of the cave with ease. After him the refuge family stepped into the cave of which the inside was dark and deep and a little slanted downward. Rocks were so damp and air was so cool, Snails were crawling busily as if to greet the sudden visitors.

The family did not sleep well even though Toung Doung made a very cozy bedding for them with grass and bushes and even though the gunshots were not heard that night. Fitful drops of water and busy snails were an impediment to a good night's rest, of course.

Toung Doung looked up at the sky through the opening. The late spring sky was blue as ever. At dawn Toung Doung's grand mother had very low coughs. Knowing that the rest of the family was awake, Mrs. Euiseong Kim handed out jumeogbap, or rice rolls for early breakfast. Before starting the road trip, they each had their own "business" to do. But the trip was not so smooth. They advanced in fits and starts. The cow with the heavy load was one factor for the slow progression and the great-grandma was another.

Hasty feet could not catch up with hasty minds. There were personal matters which, in short intervals, grandma and great-grandma had to handle. Dano needed to cool his heels often. As the mileage grew, they were mingled with more people fleeing southward. They didn't know where they were headed. Ignorance was usual responses expected of them.

But they were moving anyhow. When they got to the county capital of Euiseong, they found a train on a standby. "The train must be waiting for us," Dano exclaimed with joy. The crowds were in a stampede, coming from all corners of the town, to get aboard the train. It was getting dark. All the compartments were full, so they were desperate to step onto any train stairs. Just in case, they were desperate to climb on the roofs of the train. The Dano family happened to climb on top, with Toung Doung on the freight car with his cow.

All were on hold. The refugee train was stifling the urge to blow a horn, waiting maybe for the order from higher up to permit the southward journey into the night. How pathetic. A lot of children were on the verge of giving cries or blurting out screams. When the train got off to a late start into the night everybody heaved a sigh of relief, still apprehensive. Nightly winds of early summer were cool enough, but coal ashes, big and small, in the fresh air, got torturous. Whenever the rail road train screeched to a stop at every possible station, there was a confusion, with people calling each other. Cries and screams were everywhere.

It was a blind escape. There was no destination, and no convoy, either. The refugee train was so slow that it dawned when it passed no more than three stations or so. It made an abrupt stop at a nondescript station which could be recollected later as Bongnim station or Huabon. As it disgorged thousands of refugees at once, the countryside surroundings turned into a hellish confusion. Names were called; Cries and screams tore the air to shreds.

Cows mewed, too. Mrs, Euiseong Kim held her grandson's hand tightly. Physiological releases such as urination and defecation posed a major problem to the fleeing adults as well as the kids. Everytime the kids sought a permission in a pleading and hurried tone of voice, saying, "I want to pee," the adults pointed to a certain edge of the road, saying, "over there." There were no latrines, nor cops blowing whistles, nor roadside signboards which warned of the indecencies.

Dano saw the soldiers as he brought a pitcherful of water from the village well, a trainful of soldiers wounded and bandaged. He was pleased at first to see the ally soldiers so soon, but he was sad that they were wounded. It was supposed to be an army train which was committed to transporting the wounded soldiers. Dano wondered what place they were coming from and where they were headed. They were miserable in appearance: Many were bandaged in arms; Even many others were blindfolded. Dano had no idea in what state their legs were because they were not visible from the outside platform.

The troublesome people, who had just gotten off the south-bound train, also found a stopped train full of wounded soldiers which appeared to be heading north, probably to Daegu or some other place which had an army hospital. "Where were they coming?" they were wondering aloud.

War was being fought in deep south? The crowds in a country railroad station were in a disarray just like the cattle without a shepherd used to be. They walked onto the road but they didn't know where to go. They were heading everywhere and still nowhere. A major portion of the crowd were heading south, with their heads lowered.

No government officials were in sight. Where was the government, the refugee people thought aloud. What was the government supposed to do anyway, they whispered themselves. But they didn't dare ask anybody else in loud voice because such challenging questions could be interpreted as disobedient or Red-oriented.

Contrary to the government's inhumane treatment of the governed, the weather was not so cruel. The sun was aptly hot. And it showered from time to time. A large crowd of people needed to give their sore feet a rest, so much so that they chose to take a break in the shades of the riverside trees. They gave plausible excuses themselves to extend their hourly stay to the next day, saying "What was the rush?"

Toung Doung's grandmother had bouts of diarrhea, with Dano and others having stomach troubles or something. But there were neither pharmacies nor clinics on the way, so Mrs. Euiseong Kim had a busy time searching for ikmocho, Leonurus sibiricus in a summer grass field to treat her mother-in-law's illness. Boolim had to prepare pots of boiling water for her grandmother-in-law and the rest of the family. A major meal had to be barley with a rare mixture of rice, and the one and only condiment had to be salt, just salt. The tent name, or the assemblage of cotton cloth, had leaks.

Hunch was that "the cattle with no shepherd" were running not from the ferocious animals but stampeding into the lair of the predators. Thing was that the bone-chilling sound of the battlefield was getting noisier and the melee of bloodshed was getting messier. "The human cattle" were influenced mostly by elements. On days they moved on and on nights they stopped to rest. In rains, they sought shelter. Guess was that the fugitive crowds were getting nearer and nearer everyday to the fierce war zone, which would later be found to be the famous Yeongcheon Battle Field.

The shells of bombs were observed, in the distance of 20 miles or so, dropping from B-29 bombers of the United States Air Forces which had been sent to rescue the beleaguered nation from its crisis. The tanks were seen toppled battered on the roadside. The shattered bodies of the North Korean Liberation Army privates were sprawled covered with straw mats. The bean trees in the rows were seen trampled shattered probably by the other night's fierce bayonet fighting. Everytime Dano stopped to take a look at the brutal scenes, he was held back by his mother or grandmother.

Toung Doung's grand mother had her diarrhea more or less healed, but the cow had a new problem, She had loose bowels, too, releasing liquid shits on the road, with impunity. Stricken with minor ills and problems, and with intermittent showers and the subsequent "tent" leaks, and suffering from the scarcity of nutritions, the Toung Doung family made it near a wide expanse of a beach along the Cheongdo River.

There was a communal camp of refugee tents scattered erected along the river. Toung Doung joined the camp, erecting the nominal tent on an elevated clearing a little distanced from the river. After a simple report procedure with "the office" having been done with, Toung Doung crossed the water and went up a nearby hill to cut off some bushes which would be used to keep the family dry by spreading them on the cold and damp ground.

Toung Doung was greatly impressed. Very greatly, indeed, by the kindness and generosity of the locals. They were out there to meet and help the poor folks in plight. They comforted the privations of refugees with kind words in soft voice. In the hillside rows of bean trees were growing, wild sesames, sweet potatoes, and peppers. Their fresh leaves, even some of them, or, a little portion of them were what the fugitive folks needed to rev up an appetite, that is, to get their taste buds alive. The natives were well aware of it and went out of their way to hand them out to those who needed them. Toung Doung was not frustrated in his attempt but returned with triumphs of some good bushes and edible leaves.

Having gotten together, the folks tended to fight among themselves. The voices were so frequently raised for no apparent reason and fists were flying on the spur of the moment. Officials from the local district office appeared from nowhere, but they didn't ask of the people what were in need. They opted to domineer, showing off armbands, waving arms and blowing whistles. They appeared mainly in nights to crack down on the draft evaders. They cracked open the tents from the outside, popped their heads into the tent, and shined flashlights on the scared faces, ferreting out the suspects.

Foods were running out. Not "night guests" but "daylight thieves" were rampant. The desperate voices that exclaimed "Catch the thief!" was heard from time to time. Still, days were better. Nights were a nightmare itself. In the riverside camp where the lighting system was not installed, night meant darkness.

When night fell, the refugee camp was trapped in darkness. Still, what was more horrorful than starvation and darkness was the fear of being drowned. When it rained cats and dogs, the stream became a river. Swollen, the water jumped any vulnerable tents, claiming the unsuspectful sleepers. The shrill cries of "Help!" tore the night air every night. The shrill cries were bone-chilling and convulsive at first and gradually weakened and drifted away. The residents of the night camp were shaking all over, with chills running on their spine.

The anonymity and absence of administration caused irresponsibility. The men and women of the camp crossed the stream and made off with leaves of bean trees and sesame. Irresponsibilities were especially evident in the acts of human waste treatment. At first, they dug holes in the fields somewhat large and deep and released “with dignity.” The holes had roofs and footholds and door shapes made of straws or something at first but days passed without them.

A lot of people who were on edge rushed to the field and excreted on any holes with no coverings and got away with it. The air got thick with stench and dung flies festered. All the grounds turned into the dung field in which the refugees in no time could not find any spacious lot for their feet to step on.