The military demarcation line runs coast to coast, indicating the boundary between the two nations. The demilitarized zone extends 2000m north and south of the MDL. This is the area where troops are not allowed to move in order to preserve the ceasefire.
The South Korean side has 3 lines of defense: anti-tank walls, land mines, and I believe the third was the base itself. It includes a fence that runs along the entire MDL. They place white stones every few feet or so. This is a simple measure to detect if the fence has been tampered with. The stones are wedge-shaped and will fall out if disturbed. Beyond the fence is a vast minefield. It was disconcerting to be 10 feet from a fence that had danger warnings threatening immenint explosive death.
One of the prominent features of the DMZ, other than thriving wildlife, are the dueling propaganda villages that lie inside. I don't recall their Korean names, but the Americans call the South Korean one "Freedom Village" and the North Korean one "Propaganda Village." Apparently, Freedom Village was around since before the armistice, and they decided to subsidize the residents instead of kicking them out. They pay no taxes, have far more land per-individual than a typical Korean farmer, and schools with a high teacher to student ratio. They fly a big South Korean flag visible from North Korea. Propaganda Village is a large group of fake buildings with no backsides, like you would find on a movie set (so we were told). They fly a higher and much bigger flag than South Korea, which gets bigger and higher every time the South Korean flag does. Now the North Korean flag is the largest flag in the world, requiring imbedded metal cables to keep it from tearing itself apart. This makes it too heavy to blow in the wind. It is like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, which would be funny if it wasn't so scary. From an observation point, in the distance we could see the jamming tower North Korea uses to block all South Korean TV and radio broadcasts.
DMZ with "Propaganda Village" in the backgroundThe tour took us right to the building where the armistice was signed. The MDL splits the building right down the middle. Other buildings are similarly split, some controlled by South Korea, some by North Korea. Before going in, we could see North Korean soldiers staring at us as South Korea soldiers stare back at them with willed intimidation. The American soldiers refer to North Korean soldiers as "the enemy" without hesitation, and it seems eerily justified. Being there makes the peace seem very precarious. Inside the armistice room, tourists could cross to the North Korean side for kicks. Technically, I can say I set foot in North Korea.
I am in North Korea taking this picture. Sort of.On the way back we could see where soldiers were killed when, in the '80s, a Russian citizen on a North Korean tour defected unexpectedly on foot. He was pursued across the MDL by N. Korean soldiers, and a firefight ensued. Farther down the road was the sight of the hatchet incident where UN soldiers were killed trying to cut down a poplar tree near their guard post. It was a spontaneous territorial dispute in the '70s, only the three UN personnel had no idea they were going to be attacked and murdered for it. Finally, we saw the bridge of no return where the prisoner exchange took place after the ceasefire.
The bridge of no return.After leaving the military base, we were taken to one of the tunnels North Korea dugas part of a failed sneak attack post-ceasefire. When discovered, the N. Koreans attempted to smear the walls with coal dust and claim it as an abandoned coal mine. They failed to realize the only thing down there was granite with no trace of coal. the tour guide informed us that it was now a gold mine, as tourists spend a lot of money to see it.
I enjoyed the tour and had the privilege of meeting a woman named Helen from London. The day was more entertaining with company and conversation. She was in Korea visiting her sister. Incidentally, I would run into her again on Sunday at the Seoul horse race track.
