I went to the War Memorial of Korea several weeks ago, but I haven’t written about it in hopes that my original feelings about the place would moderate. It is very different from war memorials in the United States, and I didn’t want my pre-conceived notions to get in the way (because I do actually love the war memorials in DC).
The War Memorial of Korea does display artifacts going back thousands of years through Korea’s history, but the bulk of it seems to focus on their civil war from 1950-1953. And in that, it focuses mostly on what they used to kill people.
I realize there’s a lot of cultural bias coming from my end especially given that I really love the war memorials in the US. I feel like the WWII and Vietnam memorials do such a good job of honoring the sacrifices and losses of so many Americans. I find them beautiful and awe-inspiring, but not pretentious or grandiose.
While there were several nice spots highlighting the gravity of the situation, to me it seemed like a massive display of guns, tanks, and planes. Also, there was a playground in the middle of the Memorial, and there was even a shooting range for kids to practice killing the enemy. (I’m all for kids having a good time, but perhaps a less bellicose venue would be more appropriate.)
Perhaps I should just think of it more as a museum and not a memorial.
Here are some photos. You can view the full set here.
This was a great piece showing a South Korean and North Korean soldier holding each other with a split down the middle.
And… the infamous playground beneath the helicopters and planes waiting to drop some firepower!
And here’s where you can practice your aim at the pop up enemy!
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I can only – and I mean ‘only’ – hope that the playground is meant as some grotesque counterpoint. Yet, even if that’s true, the shooting gallery is still a horrific addendum in a frighteningly surreal way.
Thanks Adam, enjoyed the photo’s and your commentary.Thanks so much for bringing your world to ours. Miss you son. Love dad