Peace Will Come

47. 평화는 오리 평화는 오리

47. Peace Will Come, Peace Will Come

Mr. Hong was a cheerful man in his mid-80s. It was always fun to hear him tell his stories—always the same ones about how he’d been born during the Japanese occupation and faced Soviet troops in the North during his post-liberation childhood, how he’d transported goods with bullets flying all around as a Hanjin employee during the Vietnam War, how he’d gone to the Middle East for business, all he’d been through since arriving in the US in his 50s, and even his epic love life.

But there was one subject that he always talked about with a more hushed tone: his memories of the three years he spent on Jirisan Mountain as a member of the partisan suppression squad headquartered at Namwon during the Korean War.

The first time he killed someone, it was a North Korean army prisoner he shot as a new recruit on orders from his senior officer. He could not eat for days after out of guilt, he recalled. It was a brutal time, during which he had to kill many fellow Koreans simply to stay alive.

“I suppose that means you know Lee Hyun-sang, then?” I asked.

His eyes grew wide. “How do you know about Lee Hyun-sang?” Lee had been the commander of the North Korean partisans at the time.

In summer 2001, I was preparing to travel to Jirisan Mountain with some college friends. The trip had a “theme,” so to speak: we had decided to climb the mountain after reading the epic novel Taebaek Mountain Range by Jo Jung-rae. We boarded the overnight train at Seoul Station and arrived at Gurye Station early the next morning.

From there, we proceeded to Nogodan Peak, passing Hwaeom Temple on the way. After roughly three hours of climbing, we felt hungry, so we filled up on pasteurized milk mixed with grain powder and proceeded quickly up the ridge.

Our plan was to cover the full stretch of Jirisan Mountain—a little under 40 kilometers (about 25 miles)—in two days, so we hiked without a break. At the same time, we did not forget to take in the blue sky, the old trees with branches that grew away from the wind, the wildflowers, the misty rain, the scent of the plants, and the songs we sang in turn. We finally reached the mountain cabin of Seseok Shelter just before sunset.

I woke up to the rustling sound of passing hikers. Even though it was summer, the morning was quite chilly. I prepared breakfast as I waited for the sun to rise—instant rice and noodles. I took a bite of grilled Spam and washed it down with cold soju.

The bright red sun was starting to rise in the distance. As we proceeded along the trail to Jangteomok Shelter, we could see Cheonwangbong Peak. I’d been at the front previously, but now the youngest of my friends led the way.

For the downhill part of the journey, we chose the so-called “partisan route” starting in the village of Jungsan-ri. It was the shortest way down and it turned out to be quite steep, so we descended cautiously to minimize the strain on our knees.

All around, there were rather awkward-looking mannequins modeled on partisans; a rusted signboard explained that the site had once been a secret hideout. Everything overlapped with scenes from Taebaek Mountain Range; we pictured the supplies along the route and the desperate fighting, screaming, and death.

With the South Korean forces closing in, Lee Hyun-sang and the partisans had been forgotten even by North Korea’s Kim Il Sung. So many people—South Korean soldiers, South Korean police, and even civilians—had been killed.

Was it maudlin of me to see the blood of the fallen in the autumn leaves of Piagol Valley and the royal azaleas of Seseok Pyeongjeon Field? To Koreans who still live in a divided land, Jirisan Mountain is like the proud flesh of a scar.

In the past, Jirisan Mountain was a mystical land where seekers of truth strove to rescue the anguished minds of sentient beings of the Sahā world through prajna wisdom.

This is an aim carried on in Won-Buddhism by Ven. Daesan, who supported the building of an International Retreat Center on Jirisan Mountain as a way of achieving a world of peace through the exorcism of the bitterness of the Korean War’s victims while training minds to live with the right dharma of the Buddha.

As I looked out over Banyabong Peak and Cheonwangbong Peak from the Great Enlightenment Hall where the Buddha is honored, I recalled the words of Ven. Daesan, who said, “Peace will come, peace will come, true peace will come.”

This land is filled with the flowers of heaven. Peace will come, peace will come. And so the thousand buddhas and ten thousand sages will sprout in this order, the gateway of blessings of the trillion people will open up, and there will emerge many unequaled people of the Way with great enlightenment and great people of service to the public who act without signs. Together, they will build merit, build merit, and build merit some more.

—The Dharma Discourses of Prime Master Daesan, 15:21