“We’ll be all right. As long as we stay alive, we’ll find each other again,” my wife said.
I stood up immediately and gathered my few things. I knew that if I didn’t leave at once, I’d change my mind. So I went to the front door.
“If I manage to get back to Japan, somehow or other, no matter what it takes, I’ll get you there too.”
I fought back my tears and set off for Hamju Station. I knew there’d be a night train heading for Hyesan near the border. Suddenly I felt strangely free. I’d crossed an invisible threshold, and my life would never be the same again. I’d just left everything I knew and everyone I loved, and there was no going back. I was going to escape, or die trying.
It wasn’t easy to get a train to Pyongyang or the border. You needed special travel documents, and they were harder to obtain than ever. There were too many people like me trying to escape to China.
When I got to Hamju Station, there were lots of people hanging around. IDs and tickets were being checked at the ticket barrier. Not good. I walked about two hundred yards away from the station and crossed the railroad.
A high wall and a barrier of plants were there to prevent people from crossing over the platform, but I managed to squeeze in behind the wall as quietly as I could. I must have gotten caught on some barbed wire because my work pants were now torn to pieces and I was bleeding at the knees. I peeked out from behind the wall to check out the situation on the platform.
Lots of people were waiting for the train. Some were sleeping on the ground. Others were eating. There were a few policemen. And lots of soldiers. Of course. The station was also used by the military. Again not good.
I stayed hidden and watched for what felt like several hours. Eventually, the soldiers lined up, and a train pulled into the station. Even in the darkness, I could see that it was old and rusty and that all the glass had been stolen from the window frames.
I was trying to work out the best moment to jump on the train. Should I get on it right now? No. Too risky. Better to wait until the last possible moment. But how would I know when that was?
I dithered so much and time passed so quickly that, before I knew it, the train was moving. I realized that it was now or never. I bent down and sprinted toward the train as fast as my weary body would carry me. I was running flat out, scared out of my wits and convinced that one of the soldiers would shoot me in the back.
I stuck my arms out and grasped for the ladder at the tail end of the carriage. My hands met the metal bar, and I curled my fingers around it and hauled myself up. The force of my action was so powerful, I ended up somersaulting into the carriage.
I found myself lying in the narrow aisle between the seats, faceup. I was out of breath, so exhausted from my effort that I couldn’t move. It was very dark. There was no light on the ceiling above me. Eventually, I sat up and looked around. The seats were all taken. Some people were walking down the aisle, but no one seemed to take any notice of me. Loads of people stole rides in those days, so I guess my arrival was no big deal. All around me, people were nodding off.
And suddenly it hit me. I’d done it. I’d actually managed to get on that train. Relief flooded through me. Suddenly I felt hungry. I’d only had a bowl of soup that morning, many hours ago. I sat with my back against the door at the end of the carriage and dozed off. But then suddenly, I became aware of a light coming from the next carriage. Some kind of inspector was checking passengers’ travel documents with a flashlight. Suddenly I was wide awake.
I sat in the dark looking on in horror. My pulse was racing again. I knew that it would be the end of me—and my family—if I got caught. My armpits were clammy with sweat. If I didn’t think of something fast, everyone in my family would end up in a concentration camp for the rest of their lives. And as for me, I’d be found guilty of treason and shot.
I glanced around, adrenaline pumping through my veins, but there was nowhere to hide. Everything seemed to go silent. All I could hear was my heart pounding and the sound of the wind.
I didn’t have time to hesitate.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry,” I said to the passengers sleeping on the seat beside me.
Somehow, I managed to squeeze past them and reach the window. The glassless window.
Oh heavenly glass thief! How I could hug you and kiss you right now!
I put my feet on the window frame and climbed up. I stood on the window frame on the outside of the train. The wind bit into the cuts around my knees, and my bony body was nearly blown away. I knew my legs were still visible from inside the train. I had to find a way to climb onto the roof.
When I looked out over the roof, I could see some kind of ventilation grille. It was difficult to make out exactly what it was. But it came to me in a flash that it was something I could grab hold of. It was just barely out of arm’s reach. I would have to risk it. All I’d have to do was jump up and grasp it and pull myself up.
All! I’m five foot three!
We were rapidly approaching a bridge. I could make out some blackish trees up ahead.
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. When the train reached the bridge, there was a sudden jolt.
Now!
I jumped with all the strength I had. And suddenly, I was in midair, the scenery frozen around me. My fingers hooked the grille. I grabbed it and swung my lower body up and levered myself onto my elbows. I’d made it. I was on the roof. I was trembling from the effort and the terror of that jump. It was a long time before I stopped shaking.
I don’t know how long I was up there. I was so tense, I didn’t even notice when it started to rain. When I finally regained my senses, my shirt was already soaked through. It would soon be very slick on the roof, and I was in danger of falling off.
I got on my stomach and slithered as carefully as I could to the back of the train. I felt another surge of relief flood through me as my feet made contact with the ladder. I climbed down and hid on the coupler. If I wrapped my arms around the ladder and locked my hands together, I’d be safe enough.
The ladder! Why hadn’t I used the fucking ladder when I had to climb out of the train in the first place? I’d been sitting on the floor with my back to the door. All I’d needed to do was . . .
Never mind. I made it. That was all that mattered.
Sometime around midnight, the train reached a dark and deserted station. I recognized the name on the worn sign. It was the stop before Hyesan. I decided it was too risky to go all the way into Hyesan. I might get asked for my travel documents at the station, and that would be the end of me. So it was time to part company with the coupler and the ladder. I jumped off the train and walked off into the night. I knew the Yalu River wasn’t far away.
The Yalu River separates China and North Korea. A lot of people cross over it, and even more try to. Bizarrely, some thirty years earlier, many Chinese Koreans and Chinese had tried to escape to North Korea during China’s “Great Leap Forward” and Cultural Revolution, that country’s own attempt at mass starvation. Now the whole migration had been thrown into reverse.
The town of Hyesan is famous for its coalfields and copper mines. About twelve miles northeast of Hyesan, there’s an area called Pochonbo, famous for a battle that took place there in 1937. The Koreans were attempting to push the Japanese occupiers out of their country, and the Anti-Japanese Guerrilla Corps, allegedly commanded by Kim Il-sung, beat the daylights out of the Japanese army. Because of that, it became known as “the Holy Land of Revolution.” The city has a huge monument to the revolution and a statue of Kim Il-sung.