"The inside of the bunker was filled with blood and screams. I still can't forget it."
Actor Lee Han, 34, a wounded veteran of the Yeonpyeong shelling, recalled the moment this way when meeting with ChosunBiz at the Seoul Metropolitan Government's Young Wounded Discharged Veterans Counseling Center on the 25th. At the time of the 2010 shelling, Lee was a Marine private. It was a moment too horrific for a 19-year-old soldier, not yet even 20, to endure.
At 2:34 p.m. on Nov. 23, 2010. Without any warning, North Korea rained shells on Yeonpyeong Island in Ongjin County, Incheon. It was North Korea's first targeted attack on a civilian area since the armistice in the 1950-53 Korean War. Staff Sgt. Seo Jeong-woo and Pvt. Mun Gwang-uk were killed, and 16 service members were seriously or moderately wounded. Two civilians also died. Yeonpyeong Island became a battlefield in an instant.
Lee suffered shrapnel wounds in four places, including the face and left leg, from North Korea's 122 mm multiple rocket launcher. Waking up in the ICU, Lee suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Even the sound of a meal cart rolling down the hospital corridor would bring on a panic that felt like the heart would stop. After discharge, Lee prepared to become an actor, but when stages disappeared due to COVID-19, that dream had to be set aside.
The chance to stand on stage again came last year. Lee was offered a role in the play "Yeonpyeong," which reenacts the Yeonpyeong shelling. Lee said, "It was very hard to face the past, but I took courage when I heard it was a work for improving the treatment of and perceptions about wounded veterans."
This year, Lee will also meet audiences with the play "13 Minutes," which deals with the Yeonpyeong shelling. Thirteen minutes is the time it took the Marines to return fire after North Korea's surprise shelling. Ahead of the premiere on Dec. 4, we met with Lee.
Also present was Operations Director Lee Ju-eun of the Young Wounded Discharged Veterans Counseling Center. A Marine reserve captain, Lee lost the lower part of the left ankle when a landmine, presumed to have been planted by North Korea, exploded while on guard duty in Gimpo. The following is a Q&A.
—It has been 15 years since the Yeonpyeong shelling.
"It feels like it is fading. If it's not your work or your family's matter, no matter how big the incident, time blurs it. Still, there is something that feels lacking. Behind the freedom and daily life we enjoy now, there were sacrifices. I don't think the Yeonpyeong naval battles, the Cheonan, and the Yeonpyeong shelling are remembered enough.
That doesn't mean we need grand memorial events. Among the people passing by, someone may be a wounded veteran who lost a leg and lives on medication for life. I hope people can recognize how close they are to us."
—How do you remember the moment North Korea shelled Yeonpyeong Island?
"It was a routine training schedule. We were waiting in a bunker and I stepped out briefly to get some air when, without warning, shells fell. My body lifted and everything around me moved in slow motion. My comrades fell bleeding, and I was thrown to the ground. I had no sensation below the waist. I thought I had to run, and at the same time thought I wouldn't be able to."
Shrapnel from the shells was embedded in both cheekbones and in the left thigh. Lee said he lay prone with his junior, the late Pvt. Mun Gwang-uk, in front of the bunker door, waiting for the shelling to end.
—We heard it was a horrific scene.
My direct junior, Gwang-uk (Pvt. Mun), in my arms didn't look injured outwardly, but he gradually couldn't breathe, his face turned blue, and in the end he died. I couldn't do anything for him; all I could do was call his name and tell him to hold on. The bunker with its door open was filled with blood and screams. There were seniors with half an arm blown off and others with blood pouring from an ankle. After that, it took about 10 hours to move from the Yeonpyeong pier onto a fishing boat, then to a Navy fast boat, and then to a hospital in Pyeongtaek. In that time my junior passed away, and many comrades are living with arms and legs that could have been saved but were lost."
—It must not have been easy to appear in a work that reenacts the Yeonpyeong shelling.
"When I was first asked to take the lead role in the play "Yeonpyeong," I hesitated a lot, afraid of recalling the horrific memories. The psychiatrists I was seeing for PTSD treatment also advised me not to appear. Still, I took courage when I heard it was a work to improve the treatment of wounded veterans.
Rather, doing the play and recalling the situation at the time helped me. It seemed to have a mirror therapy effect. Repeating the acting gradually dulled the wounds a bit."
—You are appearing this year as well in the play "13 Minutes," which deals with the Yeonpyeong shelling. What kind of work is it?
"Yeonpyeong sought to portray both the unit's members and residents to show how one incident pierced through so many people's lives. Thirteen Minutes focuses on the return fire during the shelling. We aim to recreate on stage what actually happened in that short span.
In the end, the core is why we must remember that day. By putting on stage the people who were there and the wounded who still live with aftereffects, we hope audiences will change, even a little, the way they look at soldiers and wounded veterans."
Thirteen Minutes is hosted and organized by Purple Heart, sponsored by actor Lee Young-ae, and produced by the theater company "Horizon." It runs from the 4th to the 7th of next month at Yeonhui Arts Theater in Seodaemun District, Seoul. Lee takes the lead role.
Lee is also in the third year of helping with work at the Seoul Metropolitan Government's Young Wounded Discharged Veterans Counseling Center. The center opened in 2022 to support young people discharged after being injured during military service so they receive proper treatment and compensation. Operations Director Lee proposed the idea to Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon, which set it in motion.
Lee and Operations Director Lee are raising awareness of the need to improve the application periods and rating criteria for wounded veterans. Most discharged wounded veterans are in their early 20s, but the period until their disability rating is determined is so long that they cannot receive proper support, they said.
They say the rating criteria also have many ambiguous parts. Grade 7 for disability is "loss of one-fourth of work capacity" due to mental or neurological disorders, and Grade 6-2 is "one-third." The standards for measuring this are unclear, yet the compensation differs by more than double, at 1.69 million won and 650,000 won, respectively. For now, Operations Director Lee is not eligible for support because the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs does not view the injury as a wound sustained in combat. Lee is still in litigation.
—What do you hope for regarding wounded service members?
Financial support is important, but if I had to pick just one thing, I would want perceptions to change first. Under conscription, people in effect are drafted into the military. Even so, it is thanks to those who faithfully fulfilled their military duty that we enjoy our daily lives now.
There are also those who are injured during service and live with aftereffects. I hope such sacrifice and devotion can remain in people's hearts. I would be most grateful if the play "13 Minutes" prompts people to recall the Yeonpyeong shelling and the names of that day once more.