An
unusual tourist attraction outside the Olympic city of Gangneung tells a
nightmare story – one that holds lessons for US war planners preparing
strikes on North Korea.
An Iron Coffin: Inside North Korea’s Crazy Infiltration Submarines
It
is an incongruous sight. Balanced on a stand on the rocky shoreline of
northeastern South Korea perches a small submarine, just 100 meters from
one of the many, many concrete bunkers that stand sentry over this
strategic stretch of surf-smashed coast.
The
bunkers and tangles of razor wire are South Korean. The vessel is not:
She is a North Korean infiltration boat which ran aground here in 1996.
Despite
her toy-like exterior – small in size, painted in green and red, she
resembles a child’s drawing of a submarine – what happened to her crew
is one of the grimmest tales in the annals of modern warfare.
On
the night of September 17, 1996, a taxi driver motoring along the
coastal road just outside the city of Gangneung spotted something odd in
the dark water. Curious, he stopped his car and looked closer. What he
was looking at was a North Korean Sango (“Shark”) class infiltration
submarine.
He
contacted police. At dawn, South Korean naval commandos gingerly
boarded the boat and breached her hull. She was empty. Inside, a fire
had been lit in an unsuccessful attempt to destroy onboard equipment,
but her crew – and the commando unit they had been conveying – had
disappeared.
He
contacted police. At dawn, South Korean naval commandos gingerly
boarded the boat and breached her hull. She was empty. Inside, a fire
had been lit in an unsuccessful attempt to destroy onboard equipment,
but her crew – and the commando unit they had been conveying – had
disappeared.
Massacre and manhunt
A
security alert was issued at 05:00 on the morning of the 18th for the
whole of Gangwon Province, the area where the Winter Olympics and
Paralympics are currently underway. According to a detailed report on
the operation published by specialist website NK News,
over 40,000 South Korean troops deployed into the rugged hills and
mountains to track down the infiltrators. Among the hunters were two
full brigades of South Korea’s own killer elite: “black berets,” or
airborne special forces.
One
of their first finds on a hillside was a row of 11 dead men. All had
been shot in the head. There was no sign of a struggle. They are
believed to have lacked physical fitness, so been executed – apparently
without resisting – by their comrades. The remaining sailors – some of
whom had special forces training – and a three-man commando team split
up and headed north. Their plan was to exfiltrate through 150 km of
South Korean territory, then cross the DMZ into friendly territory.
Some
of the escapees were dressed in dark-colored civilian clothes and
tennis shoes; others were in South Korean uniforms and carried South
Korean weapons. These men were elite troops of the Reconnaissance
General Bureau, or RGB: North Korea’s 200,000-strong directorate for
espionage, special operations and, more recently, cyber warfare.
Over
the next days and weeks, scattered firefights would take place across
Gangwon’s autumnal forested terrain as groups of infiltrators were
discovered and engaged. When it was over, 13 had been killed in
gunfights. One surrendered to local police. (He was debriefed, turned,
and now works as a special advisor to the South Korean Navy.) One was
never found. He is presumed to have escaped back to North Korea – a
masterly feat of tactical field craft.
In the 49-day search operation, 12 South Korean troops and four South Korean civilians were killed.
It
was later discovered that the commandos, using scuba gear, had carried
out a successful reconnaissance of South Korean military installations
ashore before their vessel ran aground as it came inshore to pick them
up.
It would not be the last such operation.
In
1998, a Yono (“Salmon”) class mini-submarine was trapped in the nets of
a South Korean fishing boat outside the nearby port of Sokcho – like
Gangeung, on the Sea of Japan, or what Koreans all the East Sea. The
vessel sunk as it was being towed into shore; by accident, or as a
result of scuttling by the crew is unclear.
This
time, the crew did not escape. Inside, was a gruesome scene. When the
boat’s hatches were forced open, it was discovered that the nine men
aboard, crew and commandos, had shot each other and themselves rather
than face capture.
An
RGB-controlled midget submarine is widely believed to have launched the
deadliest attack on South Korea in recent years – albeit on the other
side of the peninsula, in the Yellow Sea. The submarine was blamed for
the sinking of the corvette Cheonan in 2010, for the loss of 46 South
Korean sailors. North Korea denies that attack.
All aboard a claustrophobe’s nightmare
However,
North Korea did, belatedly, admit to the 1996 incident: It called it a
training operation that went wrong. As a result of Pyongyang’s
admission, the cremated remains of the infiltrators were returned to
North Korea. The submarine, however, was not.
The
boat is now accessible by the public in what is an open-air, waterfront
museum just outside Gangeung. The damage to her stern and screws from
her grounding is plain to see. A ladder takes you up and into her
interior, through either bow or stern hatches.
German
U-boat men of World War I dubbed their craft “iron coffins,” but the
North Korea boat, at just 35 meters long and less than four meters wide,
is smaller than their wartime vessels. Her interior is cramped to the
extreme. The three compartments are lined with a tangle of tubing,
valves and communications equipment; fire damage can be seen in the
conning tower. The only sanitation facility aboard is a single sink.
To
picture 26 men, complete with scuba gear and weapons, compressing
themselves into this tiny underwater space is a claustrophobe’s
nightmare.
Back
in the sunshine, the museum’s exhibits also include a small wooden
vessel. A North Korean semi-submersible infiltration boat, piloted by
naval commandos, she is one of several that have been found off the
South Korean coast.
Far
more impressive is a World War II-era US destroyer, the USS Everet
Frederick Larwon that was donated to the South Korean Navy in 1972.
Renamed Jeonbuk, she remained in service until 1999, after which she
became part of the museum exhibit. Bristling with gun turrets,
anti-aircraft weapons and anti-submarine mortars, she towers over the
puny North Korean naval assets in her shadow.
A potent threat; viable potential
Yet,
while much evidence suggests that the regular North Korean People’s
Army is poorly equipped and poorly fed with minimal medical backup – a
defector last year was infested with intestinal worms contracted through
eating contaminated food – there is no question that North Korea’s
special forces represent a potent threat.
In
repeated operations – in 1968, 1969, and the two submarine incursions –
these troops have fought to the death, killed each other or killed
themselves to avoid capture. And each time, they have taken a heavy toll
on their South Korean opponents.
While
their equipment may be primitive, their training and motivation are
clearly top-tier. A US special force veteran evinces a grudging respect
for their spirit.
“Morale
probably is high when they are willing to carry out such operations –
to send a special forces soldier on an unsupervised, cross-border,
probably kamikaze mission, requires very high morale,” said Michael Yon,
a former Green Beret who covered the Afghan and Iraq conflicts as a
blogger and independent journalist. “They realize that if caught,
chances of torture are high, and all odds are stacked up against them.
They must be self-reliant – they cannot call for reinforcements or
extraction.”
With
US war planners reportedly mulling limited strikes against North
Korea’s nuclear and missile programs after the Paralympics end on March
18, the RGB is a viable asset that Pyongyang could activate in response.
Korea-based
US troops, speaking off the record, say that they do not expect North
Korea to react to a US attack with conventional weapons, such as
artillery: to do so could lead to North Korea losing any possible
control as the conflict escalated. The result could mean all-out war,
and the likely downfall of the Kim regime.
Hence,
a “deniable” response – such as terrorist attacks carried out by deep
cover, plain-clothes RGB personnel against US military, political or
commercial assets in South Korea, or further afield, such as in Japan or
Okinawa – is a plausible retaliation scenario.
Assets
may already be in place, Yon speculated. “For those who have not been
there and may infiltrate during the time of war, they likely have
memorized in detail the maps and terrain around their targets,” he said.
“There is a high chance weapons and other war materiel are cached in
the South.”
The fact that they sound and look local would make them very, very hard to detect, Yon continued.
“North
Korean special forces already speak the language and look the part: A
change into civilian clothes backed by counterfeit documents is enough
to blend in and supply themselves,” he said. “There is a good chance
that some of the officers are living there right now – one wonders how
many defectors are operatives, including females.”
Even
so, special forces alone are not war winners – and the 28,500 GIs in
Korea can draw on much recent experience fighting terrorists, including
suicide bombers.
“[North
Korean special forces] put more allied troops at risks, we would have
to take more casualties because of their unwillingness to surrender,”
said Dan Pinkston, a strategy expert and former US Air Force colonel who
teaches at Troy University. “Our infantry and special forces would have
to think about this, they would have to have special tactics – but they
have experiences of fighting this kind of threat in the Middle East.”
