A Soldier's Lesson in Discipline and Punctuality.
In South Korea, virtually all healthy men are required by law to complete mandatory military service, typically between the ages of 18 and 28. Today the term is around 18-21 months, but in the 1990s it was considerably longer—roughly 27 to 30 months, before being gradually shortened in later years. This series is based on my own experience serving during that era.
People from home were also allowed to come and visit me. Whenever my wife visited, I was granted permission to leave the base overnight. It was the very first overnight leave I had received since joining the military, and it felt almost like a dream. After spending every day confined to military life like a prisoner, the thought of stepping outside the gates, even for a short time, filled me with excitement.
The next day, I was issued an overnight pass, instructing me to return by five o'clock in the afternoon. Holding that pass in my hand, I walked out of the base with my heart pounding. There was not enough time to travel all the way home and back, and I did not want to waste the precious hours on transportation. Instead, we decided to stay at a small inn near the base. My wife and I had a meal together at a nearby restaurant before checking into the inn. It was such a simple outing, yet after the strict routine of military life, it felt incredibly special. For a brief moment, I could forget about drills, orders, and regulations and simply enjoy being with my family.
The day passed so quickly that I hardly noticed the time. Before I knew it, the next afternoon had arrived, and it was time for me to return to the base. By the time I reached the entrance, I was about ten minutes past my scheduled return time.
Since I had only recently entered the military, I knew little about military rules and discipline. I honestly did not think that being ten minutes late would become such a serious issue. I expected to receive a warning, or perhaps a scolding, but nothing more.
I was completely wrong.
As soon as I reported back, I was taken directly to the military police station. I was accused of being absent without authorization, even though my delay had been only a matter of minutes. One of the military police soldiers ordered me to stand still and began striking the side of my neck repeatedly with a baton. The blows came one after another without mercy. The pain was unbearable, and I honestly thought my neck was going to break and I might faint. The MP was about ten centimetres taller than I was and physically much stronger. For what felt like thirty minutes, he treated me as if he held my life in his hands. I had never experienced such fear or humiliation before.
Eventually, a military police sergeant finished his shift and was preparing to leave. After watching his superior go, the MP who beat me suddenly told me to sit down in a chair. His attitude changed completely. Instead of yelling, he calmly began asking me questions about myself. He asked whether I was married, how old my child was, what I had studied in college, and other details about my life. After listening to my answers, his tone softened even more. He apologized and said that what had happened was not something he personally wanted to do. He explained that he had simply been carrying out orders and had no choice but to follow them against his will.
From that day on, the two of us unexpectedly became friends. We talked whenever we had the opportunity, and we even took a photograph together. During working hours, we would occasionally chat whenever our duties allowed. It was difficult to believe that the same person who had beaten me so severely could later become someone I spoke with so comfortably.
Fortunately, the incident ended without any further punishment. I was released with only a warning and allowed to go to my barracks. As I lay down on my bunk that evening, a deep sigh escaped my lips. Another day in the military had come to an end. I realized once again that military life was unlike anything I had ever known. Every experience, whether painful or unexpected, was slowly changing me. As I stared at the ceiling, exhausted but relieved, I found myself thinking that this was simply part of the process of becoming a soldier, even though I didn't want to be.
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