
Veuillez patienter pendant le chargement...
.
.
.
.
.
en cas de souci avec cette page Accès portail CHA3K
.Brioude-Internet : référencement google et positionnement
Lee Wha Rang notes: Photo: from left to right - Choe Yong Gon. Kim Chaik, Kim Il, Kim Il Sung and Kang Gun, on the occasion of the first production of burp guns in North Korea, 1949.
Kim Chaik was always cool, almost to the point of being cold, and he was going bald already at 40. Strange though it may sound, even though I had not met him before, I felt like I had known him all my life; it was because I had heard so much about him and had looked forward to seeing him. After the usual greetings, I told him I considered him an old friend although we were meeting face to face for the first time. Kim Chaik said that he felt the same way. For years, Kim Chaik and I thought about each other.
I have been to northern Manchuria several times just to meet Kim Chaik and Choe Yong Gon. Also, Kim Chaik came to see me in Jirin in 1930. Choe Yong Gon wanted to join hands with me and sent his liaison officers to Jiandao four times. Whether we were in northern Manchuria or eastern Manchuria, all of us were concerned with Korean revolution and acted as true Korean revolutionaries and children of Korea; we devoted our life to liberation of Korea, irrespective of our organizational affiliation and main place of presence. We were genuine comrades-in-arms and yearned to work together as brothers for iur common cause.
Why were Kim Chaik and Choe Yong Gon so envious of our activities in eastern Manchuria? It was because they missed working with Koreans. While the 2nd Brigade in eastern Manchuria was exclusively Korean, Chinese were in the majority in the 3rd and 7th brigades in northern Manchuria. They felt uncomfortable working with the Chinese whose language and customs were different, and so they could not help but be envious of the Korean units eastern Manchuria, where hundreds of thousands of Koreans lived; they wished they had units with Koreans in the majority.
"Why has it taken this long to meet Commander Kim Il Sung?" - Kim Chaik said aloud to himself after we had exchanged greetings at our very first meeting. For some reason, his muttering struck my heart. He held my hand for a long time and stared at me. I saw tears swelling up in his eyes and I realized how much he had missed being with Koreans. I, too, was overcome with tearful emotions. Right after Japan occupied Korea, Kim Chaik's father moved his family to Jiandao, Manchuria. He figured that Jiandao was a fertile land where Korean farmers could do well. Haksong area, where they were from, was also fertile, but they lived in poverty no matter how hard they worked the land.
Poor Korean farmers were forced to abandon their ancestral land and migrate to alien lands. Kim Chaik's parents mistakenly believed that once they made to Jiandao, all of their troubles would be solved. Jindao was their promised land. There were three sons and farm labor was no problem. Unfortunately, the sons, whom they had counted on, left home to join the revolution.
Photo:
Kim Chaik.
Kim Hong Son, Kim Chaik's elder brother, brought revolution to his family. During March First, Kim Hong Son marched in the street; he fought in the Battle of Quingshanli as an Independence Army soldier and joined the communist movement. Kim Hong Son was a teacher at Tonghung Middle School in Longjing, where many students came from Russia. It was probable that he learned of socialism from these students. He had worked as a district committee member of the Communist Party in Ningan County for a while. Kim Chaik's younger brother was also a prominent revolutionary. Kim Chaik told me that he had once come across an article in a newspaper about his younger brother being held in Seoul's Sodaemun Prison, but that he did not know what had become of him. Kim Chaik worked the fields during the day and attended a night school; he became a revolutionary..
Kim Chaik joined General Federation of Young Koreans in Eastern Manchuria (GFYKEM). Later he joined Korean Communist Party. His Party cell was controlled 'Tuesday' faction. He was aware that Korean Communist Party, formed in 1925, was disbanded by Moscow owing to factional fighting; he made it no secret that he was a member of that ill-fated Party. In those days, Korean Communist Party controlled by 'Tuesday' group and 'M-L' group vied for influence in Manchuria. Kim Chaik was disillusioned by the quarrels within the Communist Party of Korea.
Kim Chaik was serving a prison term when he heard the news that Comintern had dissolve the Korean Party. Even though he had no love for the Party leaders, he was shocked by the demise of the Party. He was lost and penniless, he did not know what to do. When he was arrested by the Japanese and tried, he had no money to hire a defense lawyer. But Ho Hun came to his rescue. Ho was a defense attorney and took on Kim Chaik's case pro bono. In fact, Ho Hun defended many revolutionaries free of charge and helped reduce sentences or get released. After serving his prison term, Kim Chaik stayed with Ho Hun's family for a few days. Kim Chaik decided to escape to Manchuria and Ho gave him food and money for his journey. They became close friends.
After Liberation, Ho Hun became the first Speaker of the Supreme People's Assembly and Kim Chaik became Vice Premier and Minister of Industry. How strange that a penniless man and his lawyer would become key leaders of Korea. When Kim Chaik became Vice Premier, he tole Ho Hun - "Master Ho, you had defended me in court, but now you must prosecute me if I do wrong. If I make any mistake, whether as Vice-Premier or as a private citizen, please prosecute me without mercy."
Ho Hon, a jovial man, was a man of principle and would have actually criticized Kim Chaik, had he made mistakes in his official capacity. Kim Chaik had an excellent job as Vice-Premier and as a private citizen, and Ho Hun had no cause to go after him. In contrast, Park Hyon Yong was despised by him when Paek was Vice-Premier. Ho Hon told to be watchful of Park; Ho had some bad jibes on Park. Ho Hon wept loudly when he heard Kim Chaik died. Ho deeply grieved over Kim's death and said that I had just lost my right-hand man, who would be irreplaceable.
Kim Chaik once told me that he was embarrassed to receive such a kind treatment from Ho Hun and his family during his trial in Seoul: he said that he had done nothing worthy for Korea, instead had been a lackey in the service of factionalists before his arrest. Yet Ho Hun's family took a good care of him as if he had done something for Korea; he felt uncomfortable as if he were sitting on needles. "Even if I die one hundred times and come back to life one hundred times, I will live up to the people's expectations" was what Kim Chaik decided to do when he left Ho Hun's house for Jiandao.
When he arrived at Jiandao, he learned that his father and wife had died of illness during his absence, leaving his two infant sons homeless. He had no luxury to care about his personal tragedies, for he was informed that secret agents of the Japanese imperialists were about to arrest him. How cunning the Japanese imperialists were! They would arrest revolutionaries, torture them to near death and release them through the front door as a show of tolerance, and then take them in again through the back door. They were masters of such dirty tricks.
Kim Chaik was forced to leave his home after placing his sons in the care of his brother-in-law. Dressed in peasant's attire and with a shabby reed-hat on his head, he walked past the entrance to the village following a cow belonging to his brother-in-law. After reaching a hill, the cow bellowed ceaselessly for its calf left behind in the stable. The calf also cried for its mother. The cow was his cover, but he could not go on hiding behind the cow. Hearing the mother and her young calling to each other so dolefully, he thought of the sons he had left behind and started to cry uncontrollably. He felt sorry for the calf as well as for his sons, he told me. So he let the cow go. For the following sixteen years, he could not see his sons. Only a revolutionary like Kim Chaik could endure such an ordeal. Once I asked how his sons were doing. He replied that he did not know and told me: "As long as my brother-in-law is alive, my sons would be OK, but if something bad has happened to his family, then my sons will be begging for food in streets. I only hope that they stay alive long enough to see the day of liberation and meet their worthless father."
In Ningan, Kim Chaik heard rumors about us. After leaving his sons, he went to Ningan, where he got connected with his former colleagues from his Communist Party days. They told him that a new movement, different from the ones of the old generations, had popped up in Jirin under Kim Sung Ju, who was popular because of his strong personality in spite of his tender age; he was told that Kim Sung Ju was arrested by Chinese warlords and then released; that it was not known where Kim Sung Ju was and what he was doing.
Jirin had many students from Ningan at that time and Kim Chaik must have heard about me from these students. Kim Chaik came looking for me in Jirin, but by that time I had already left Jirin. He instead happened to meet at a lodging some of my comrades, who had apparently been tailing him. After confirming his identity and hearing the purpose of his visit to Jirin, my comrades said to him, "Kim Sung Ju is not here at the moment. You seem to be in Jirin for the first time. Don't hang around here. Please leave now. In the aftermath of the May Massacre of communists, Chinese warlords are after revolutionaries. You will meet Kim Sung Ju some other day." They gave him some money and led him out of Jirin safely.
Kim Chaik returned to northern Manchuria, only to be arrested by the Kuomintang army. While he was behind bars, the September 18 Incident took place and he was released. But upon his release, he was arrested by the warlord police and sentenced to death. In those days, communists were hunted down like wild animals and butchered without mercy. Thus Kim Chaik was sentenced to die, although he had done no revolutionary work. He was led to a field to be shot, but at the very last moment, an officer came to his rescue and he was released.
Kim Chaik's spirit rose and his faith in revolution was revived. He told me that he had tried to wage the revolution since his teen years but all he had done was running away from police or languishing in prison; he said that he had done positive things only after he took up arms against the enemy. "The enemy regards unarmed revolutionaries as scarecrows". he said, laughing. He said that this was the most important lesson of his life. That revolution comes from the muzzle of a gun is a universal law of revolution and it took Kim Chaik half of his lifetime to learn this principle. Revolution must be waged with the force of arms, and the end of all forms of struggle for national independence and social liberation is decided generally by people's war. The basic cause of our victory in our anti-Japanese war was that we had our own armed forces. Of the anti-Japan activities of Rhee Syngman, Kim Gu, Yo Un Hyon and others, the Japanese feared our Korean People's Revolutionary Army (KPRA) the most. They regarded others as mere scarecrows..
The reason why the Japanese feared us the most was because we mounted effective military campaigns against them; we did not rely on petitions, strikes, writings or empty speeches. The victory of our anti-Japanese revolution convinced us of the correctness of the principle that revolution must be waged militarily. After Liberation, we continued building a more powerful revolutionary army and channel all our efforts into this effort. A nation's power and prestige depend on its armed forces; strong armed forces secure a nation's survival and prosperity. No nation can be truly independent sans strong armed forces. Nations with weak forces inevitably become slaves of other nations. In this spirit, Comrade Kim Jong Il has been building up the Korean People's Army to be an unrivalled, ever-victorious army.
Kim Chaik spoke a lot about the evils of factionalism. He told me that factionalism led to his arrest and imprisonment; he said: "After serving in prison, I keenly realized that the communist movement could not be waged through conventional methods and that unless factions were eliminated, nothing, let alone national liberation and class emancipation, could be achieved. If it is true that the new force in Jirin is a new group of people of a new generation not tainted by old-time Korean Communist Party, then I will join hands with them without hesitation. That was why I wanted to see you."
He said that his true revolutionary career began when he organized a guerrilla unit in Zhuhe and began an armed struggle. His life before then was one of roaming and groping, he said. Since he began guerrilla war in Zhuhe, his contributions to revolutions of Korea and China became tangible; he was appointed key posts in North Manchuria Party Committee and the 3rd Route Army of the NAJAA. The Korean and Chinese revolutionaries and peoples in northern Manchuria unanimously respected him and loved him as a veteran revolutionary, only after his started partisan war.
"I have long looked forward to meeting you," he said. "Do you know how earnestly the Korean revolutionaries in northern Manchuria wished to see you? We fought always looking towards Mount Paektu where your unit was active. Had I met you in Jirin, Commander Kim, I would have spared all those mental agonies." He said that the news of our Pochonbo raid across Yalu was one of the best he had heard and he wanted to shake my hands and extend words of gratitude to me in the name of the Korean revolutionaries in northern Manchuria.
Kim Chaik, well-known for his taciturn demeanor, was unexpectedly sentimental and opened up to me. He said that he had heard a lot about our activities in eastern Manchuria and West Jiandao from the people I had dispatched to northern Manchuria; he told me that he liked the trait of unity between PRKA officers and men, between superiors and subordinates, and between the army and the people. He said that he liked the spirit of independence of my movement for liberation of Korea, in spite of the fact that we were in an alien land. Kim Chaik was well informed of my activities, even to a minor incident in which I repaired a guerrilla's broken rifle.
He said that he had regarded me as a model for his revolutionary struggle and daily life. Such was his modesty. Though he held me up as a model, frankly speaking, he himself was a paragon of revolutionaries. He had earned the reputation of being a fierce man, but he loved his men more than anybody else. Though he said he had been impressed by the anecdote about my fixing a rifle, there were as many uplifting anecdotes about his relationship with his men.
What is the power base of a revolutionary army?
It is love between comrades. You must always value and love your comrades. You love them as you would your own self. Nothing is more precious than revolutionary comrades in this world. This is what he taught his men. Once a guerrilla from another unit brought a document for him. Kim Chaik told the messenger to sleep in his bed while he read the document. Kim Chaik noticed that the messenger's clothes were torn and he mended them with his own hands. The messenger was from another unit, but Kim Chaik took care of him just as his own father or brother would have. After every battle, he congratulated his men, as a group, but individually, one by one. He praised each man in concrete ways "You did this and that well when breaking through the gate; you did such-and-such well when attacking the Manchukuo army barracks; you did this and that well and this and that wrong when shouting to demoralize the enemy." The soldiers fought more bravely after getting this kind of review.
Kim Chaik paid special attentions to soldiers who were somewhat deficient. After a soldier was criticized by his commander, Kim Chaik would meet him and examine him as to whether he had realized his mistake; if the man had not, he would talk to him until he saw what he had done wrong. Kim Tae Hong was a platoon leader under Kim Chaik. Once Kim scolded an assistant machine-gunner who had fired into the air, thus wasting bullets. He was a new recruit facing his first battle. Kim Tae Hong shouted - "You, coward! If your life is so dear to you, put down that gun and go back to your parents!" After the battle, Kim Chaik sent for Kim Tae Hong and told him: "Comrade Kim, you shall never treat your men in that way. He is a raw recruit, isn't he? How can you scold a man who is in battle for the first time? Instead of scolding him, you should first set an example." Thereafter, Kim Tae Hong never scolded his men.
Kim Chaik was not all affection and forgiving. He was a commander of principle; he persuaded, criticized or punished his men according to the situation. When someone made a serious mistake, he would subject him to a severe rebuke. This is what Jang Sang Ryong wrote in his recollection of Kim Chaik after his death: In the winter of 1942, Kim Chaik commanded a small unit in Manchuria, after the Khabarovsk conference; his unit was short of food and suffered from hunger. One day Jang went hunting off the secret camp. After many hours, he managed to bag a bear and a wild boar. After burying the games, he hurried back but he could not reach the camp before sunset; he was was exhausted and the way back to the camp was rugged. He decided to stay overnight in a hunter's hut not far from the camp and returned the next morning.
Kim Chaik had ordered his men not to use the hut because it might be used by enemy spies. Learning that Jang had stayed overnight in this hut, Kim Chaik summoned Jon Chang Chol, Jang's commander, and ordered him to call Jang to account for it; Kim said Jang was not fit to be a guerrilla. Jon Chang Chol asked him to forgive Jang this once, as Jang had so far fought valiantly for the revolution. But Kim Chaik told Jon, "No, I will not. Let him stand outside in the cold for three hours." Jon Chang Chol took Jang outside as ordered. But before two hours had passed Jang was in such a pitiable state that Jon Chang Chol begged Kim Chaik to let Jang inside, as he must have fully repented of his mistake by that time. Kim Chaik retorted that commuting a penalty given to a violator was in violation of discipline and had Jon outside as well.
Kim Chaik let Jang into the tent the three-hour punishment and told him to eat his meal first. Jang sat down at the table but could not eat. He realized what he had done wrong. Kim Chaik sat next to him and said in a gentle voice: "You might think your mistake was not so serious. That's wrong. Why do I take it so seriously? It is because your mistake could have disclosed our camp to the enemy and ruined our revolutionary task, not to mention our life. This is why I ordered the men not to use that hut. However, you disobeyed an order of your superior and risked your life overnight. What would have happened if there had been spies there?" Jang carved every one of Kim Chaik's words in his memory, he told me.
Kim Chaik was a man of few words, but each word he spoke was so loaded that it was as inviolable as an article of the law. Once the enemy mounted a psychological warfare against us and spread false rumors that Kim Chaik had been arrested, that Park Kil Song had surrendered, that such-and-such unit had defected and that Ho Hyong Sik was killed and so on. The commanders and guerrillas knew that these were sheer fabrications. The commander of the 2nd unit decided to teach the enemy a lesson. He lured an enemy spy who was roaming about his camp and asked him to go down the mountain and negotiate with the military police for the surrender of his unit. The military police informed him, through the spy, of the place and time of surrender, promising him a generous reward.
The police, guided by the spy, appeared at the promised place at the set time. Grinning at the unit standing in lines in the forest, the police even waved at them. At that moment the guerrillas aimed their rifles at them, shouting, "Stay where you are!" The commander shouted, "You idiots! We came here not to surrender, but to capture you. Hands up!" The enemy leader protested. "I have heard that the communist army does not tell lies. How can you go against your promise? An army must keep its honor." "Shame on you," the commander replied. "How dare you talk about honor when you spread false rumors and tell lies every time you have a chance? As you have told so many lies, we decided to tell a lie, too." The unit returned with the captured police.
The commander was praised for his audacity. Earlier, Park Tuk Pom played the same trick and captured much needed supplies from the enemy, but he was criticized for his action. Kim Chaik gathered the officers of the 2nd brigade and criticized them severely, saying, "To think that the guerrilla army could lie like the enemy does! What on earth were you thinking of? However false your game was, how could you use the surrender of guerrillas as a trick? You are not worthy of being officers of a revolutionary army." He then demoted all the officers, including the commander.
You may think that Kim Chaik knew nothing but punishments. He did not hand out punishments willy-nilly. Let me tell you another anecdote. In one battle, a guerrilla was so excited that he left behind his knapsack full of grenades on the battlefield. His unit assembled and criticized him. Criticizing or punishing a guerrilla who had lost his rifle happened occasionally in the units of the revolutionary army. The guerrilla thought he deserved the criticism of his comrades-in-arms and swore that he would never do it again. But a senior political cadre suggested that a severe penalty be given him, making the atmosphere of the meeting threatening. Upon learning that the guerrilla was a new recruit, Kim Chaik concluded that his officers were responsible for not training him properly and that the recruit should be given help, not punishment. He dismissed the suggestion of the senior political cadre. Had the issue finished there, everything would have been all right. But the political officer insisted that the man be executed and the new recruit deserted during the night. Thus, a problem that could have been settled without a hitch developed in a major fiasco.
The political officer became an object of scorn. All denounced him as an inhumane man. Some condemned him as a counterrevolutionary and others urged that he be punished. Upon learning of this incident, Kim Chaik took the blame on himself and said that it was his fault that this incident happened. He was the chief political officer and had failed to lead his men properly. That day he took the guilty political officer under his personal care and began to reeducate him.
He was impressed by my practice of being independent of foreign interference in Korean revolution. He reminded his Korean guerrillas that, although they were with a Chinese unit, Korean revolution must be carried out by Koreans themselves and that they should always remember that they were Koreans. Kim Chaik and I shared many things in common; revolutionary ideas, how to approach to the people, the stand on the spirit of independence, to the issue of the method and style of work, not to mention the issue of building the Party, the state and the army of Korea.
Kim Chaik was surprised that I knew so much about him. I told him that I, too, had followed his his work. He replied with smiles on his face: "If two men, who have never met, care for and miss each other so much, then it is a predestined relationship." I agreed. It was in the summer of 1930 that he went to Jirin looking for me, it could be said that our friendship began then. His age and revolutionary feats made Kim Chaik the ranking cadre in the north Manchurian unit; in fact, he was a senior of all Korean military and political cadres of the guerrilla army in Manchuria.
Yet, Kim Chaik gave me the crown as the representative and leader of the Korean revolution and had presented me as such to the Soviet and Chinese peoples. Why did he trust and push me, nine years his junior, as the leader? He believed that there should be central leadership for the revolution, around which all revolutionaries can rally. He believed that I should be the leader. After we met at last, we became closest comrades; he followed and helped me ever since.
He returned to Korea after Liberation and devoted his all to building the Party, the state, the armed forces and industry. He worked tirelessly during the Korean War. He went wherever he was needed. When he was the Commander-in-Chief of our front armies in South Korea, he went as far south as Chungchong. He was in the frontline area with his officers and soldiers. When I went to the front for inspection, he scolded aides: "How dare you bring the Supreme Commander here of all places?"
Young communists of Korea looked up to for leadership in the 1930s in Jirin and early in the 1940s. Kim Chaik and other anti-Japanese revolutionary fighters placed me at the center for unity and cohesion and they worked hard to carry out our Juche revolution. This is how my leadership was formed in our revolution thanks to Kim Chaik. This is the main contribution he made to the communist movement and the national liberation struggle of Korea.
At the training base in Siberia were guerrillas who had fought in northern Manchuria as well as in southern Manchuria. There were also Koreans who had grown up in Siberia. Had they remained loyal to their unit of origin, our ranks could not have been united, and the leadership center would not have been formed. But no provincialism or hegemony fights took place among the Korean communists at the training camp. Veterans such as Kim Chaik and Choe Yong Gon gave prominence to me from the outset, affirming my leadership.
After the Khabarovsk conference, Kim Chaik went back to Manchuria and spent most of 1942 and 1943 there. He commanded our partisans fighting in northern Manchuria. He did not come back to the base even after he finished his mission. By that time, Ho Hyong Sik and Park Kil Song, commanders of the units in northern Manchuria, were dead and Kim Chaik was reluctant to part company with his partisans. After the Soviet 88th International Brigade was formed, Kim Chaik was ordered to return to Siberia, but he stayed put claiming that he mission was not finished. The Brigade commander was angry at Kim's refusal to obey his direct order. I sent a telegram to Kim Chaik informing him of the new Brigade and suggested that he should return to Siberia, and he did. He refused to obey the Soviet command but obey my directives without hesitation.
While in Siberia, Kim Chaik did his best to protect me. When I led a partisan unit on a mission in 1941, he met the unit members without my knowledge and told them to protect me at all cost. When we were making preparations for the final operations against the Japanese troops in 1945, he called a meeting of Korean commanders in the brigade without giving me notice. The meeting discussed the issue of ensuring my personal safety. He told the commanders at the meeting: "Everyone must ensure the personal safety of Comrade Kim Il Sung. Comrade Kim Il Sung is the leader representing the people and revolutionaries of Korea, so we must defend him at the risk of our lives."
After the triumphal return of the soldiers of the Korean People's Revolutionary Army to Korea, he called another meeting on guarding me. "Returning to the motherland, we can see that the situation is more complicated than we have heard. The maneuverings of terrorists are threatening our safety. We must be on the highest alert, or else I'm not sure what might happen. Chief secretary of the South Pyongan Provincial Party Committee, Hyon Jun Hyok, was assassinated by terrorists. You must never let the news of General Kim Il Sung's triumphal return to slip out. The time will come when the news will be made public, so until then you must keep it a secret. We must ensure General Kim's safety; we are his personal bodyguards." He took the initiative of organizing a body guard unit for me.
I have been spending a great deal of time working with the people after Liberation. I have been busy working with the people, the revolutionaries from south Korea and with foreigner guests. Though we had distinguished guests, we had no system in place to entertain them. We had no guest house where they could stay and most of them stayed at my house, where only boiled rice and plain soup were served. Everyone regarded this as normal, as it could not be helped just after liberation. But Kim Chaik thought otherwise. He worried no good liquor was available in my house. He argued that: "It is true that the country is in a pitiful state and we have no money. But how can we go to the market to buy liquor each time a guest visits the General? When the Republic is founded, guests will come to see the General in droves. We have to build a distillery with our own hands and make liquor for our use. Besides, for the safety of the General, we should make our drinks." Such was Kim Chaik's concern for me.
Without my knowledge, he began to inquire into which liquor was the most famous across the country and who was its distiller and it was determined that the liquor made in Ryonggang was the best in liberated Korea. It was made by a man and and his daughter. High-ranking Japanese and wealthy Koreans loved it before liberation. Kim Chaik went to Ryonggang to meet them. Moved by his words, the distiller volunteered his daughter to accompany Kim Chaik and make the drinks for the country. Her name was Kang Jong Suk.
Kang Jong Suk stayed with Kim Chaik, cooking and brewing liquor. She designed a distillery and Kim Chaik went to the market with another man and bought rice for the brew. Soon his house turned into a distillery. Kim Chaik proudly brought me the first bottle of his brewery. He filled a glass in full and said: "This is the first Ryonggang liquor Kang Jong Suk made for you." Kim Chaik was happy that I liked his brew. From then on, the Ryonggang liquor Kang Jong Suk made was served at state banquets. There was another happy ending: Kim Chaik and Kang Jong Suk got married. His dedication to my authority was such that whenever I phoned him, he stood up, adjusted his clothing and buttoned up his jacket before speaking on the phone. Even when he was sick in bed, he would stood on his feet to receive my phone calls, even when there was no one around.
The lowest period in my life was the days of retreats during the Korean War (Fatherland Liberation War). Although I announced that it was a temporary tactical retreat, some cowardly cadres thought the Republic was done for. When the enemy advanced to Sariwon, Kim Chaik, the Front Commander, formed a defensive line for Pyongyang in Junghwa, Sangwon and Kangdong. Reporting on the situation at the front to me, he said that he would reinforce the defensive line with the retreating units and defend the line to the last man; he requested that I leave Pyongyang with the staff of the Supreme Headquarters at once. A few days later he again phoned me to ask me to move the Supreme Headquarters to another place. I answered that he should also retreat before the enemy attacked. But instead of retreating, he sent me his Party membership card. He was set to fight to death defending Pyongyang.
I phoned him and said that I would not leave Pyongyang unless he retreated. Only then did he come to Pyongyang with his army. He took back his Party membership card when the Korean People's Army began the counteroffensive. Some people said he was a very stern, truculent man, but, frankly speaking, he acted severely only in front of idlers, sycophants, the discontented, the selfish, careerists and factionalists; he was boundlessly kind-hearted and modest in front of his subordinates and the people. As he so hated those who played a double game, Park Hon Yong was watched his steps when Kim Chaik was around. Kim Tu Bong, though Chairman of the Presidium of the Supreme People's Assembly, avoided Kim Chaik.
Kim Chaik was completely free from affection and hypocrisy. Immediately after liberation, his son, who had been adrift in Manchuria, was reunited with him. The young man was in shabby clothes and wore straw sandals. Kim Chaik wanted to introduce him to me as he was, without first dressing him up in new clothes and shoes, as other parents would have done. He told his son: "Don't be ashamed of your straw sandals. You don't know what kind of man General Kim Il Sung is. Don't worry. You have so far lived barefooted, and you can't pretend to be a wealthy man all of a sudden. The General will be happier to see you in straw sandals and those clothes on yiur back. If you wore a Western suit and leather shoes, he would not be happy." When he appeared in my office with his son in straw sandals, the son he had met after 16 years of separation, I could not hold back tears. That day I shed more tears than Kim Chaik did. How copiously he must have shed tears in his mind! But his family reunion lasted only four years. Kim Chaik died because he overtaxed himself. He carried too large a burden on his shoulders.
I saw him last on January 30, 1951. At the time the Supreme Headquarters was in Konji-ri. That evening he came to me without an advance notice. He said that the 24th of the previous month had been Comrade Kim Jong Suk's birthday but he could not come to see me because he was busy, although he knew I would be lonely. He apologized and said that he had to come before the month had ended. I said to him: "In December last year we were in quite a hurry to drive out the Americans from the north of Korea. We didn't have time to visit each other, did we? Please don't worry about it." That day he was not like his usual self. He acted strange. I did not know why but he was strangely sentimental. He asked me to take a stroll with him, so I went outside with him. He told me that he did not know before the war that there was such a scenic place there and we should build an elegant rest home there after the war. I agreed. To be candid, we had been so busy after liberation building a new country that we failed to be concerned with scenic places and rest homes. As for our own recreation, we were content with going to Maekjon Ferry or Jangsuwon Bridge and dip our feet in the cool water.
I still remember Kim Chaik trying to hide his worn socks with gaping holes. I gave him a pair of my socks and said: "Don't overtax yourself with work. Take care of yourself. How can you stand the winter cold wearing torn socks? Please take care of yourself for my sake." That evening he wanted to dine with me, but Ho Ka I unexpectedly showed up with a report about Party work. He took a great deal of time over this report, without coming straight to the point and so Kim Chaik left Konji-ri without a meal. At the parting, he said to me: "We will be victorious over the Americans, General. Please don't work too hard, and look after your health." This was the last request he made to me, which moved my heart in a special way on that fateful day.
That day Kim Chaik worked late in his office and died of heart failure at his desk. When the Minister of Public Health and Director of the Medical Bureau, Lee Pyong Nam, told me that Kim Chaik was dead, I could not believe it. I could not believe that a man, who had talked with me just a few hours before, had died so suddenly. Disregarding my bodyguards' protest, I drove in broad daylight, despite the danger from enemy bombers, to the place where the Cabinet was located. Only then, did I realize that Kim Chaik was dead.
I regret very much that I did not make Kim Chaik stay with me the previous night. Had I done so, he would not have worked late into the night and he would not have had a heart attack. I also regret I saw him off without asking him to stay for dinner that night. On the day of his funeral, I touched his hands for the last time before the hearse left, the hands I had shaken for the first time in Khabarovsk 10 years before. I had not forgotten the warmth of his hands at that time, but on the day of the funeral they were icy cold, the hands of Kim Chaik who would rush to me before any one else and clasp my hands whenever I returned from a field trip!
Kim Chaik lived all his life as my faithful comrade-in-arms. That is all the more reason why I cannot forget him. After his death, I looked after his sons as he would have done for my sons. I sent them abroad for study and arranged marriages for them. When his granddaughter was born, I congratulated them on her birth. I often invited them to my house and dined with them. Nonetheless, I could find no relief from sorrow, as I felt I had failed to do enough for them for Kim Chaik's sake. Whenever our revolution encounters trials and difficulties, I yearn for Kim Chaik.
When I visit his grave, I feel guilty about riding in a car, so I get out at the foot of Mount Taesong and walk up to his grave. Even if he is now in the world beyond, how can my love and respect for him change? I have experienced a lot while waging the revolution, and what I cherish most deeply is my comrades. For a person who has embarked on the road of revolution with a determination to dedicate his life to the freedom and liberation of his fellows, the most precious things are his comrades and their camaraderie. A faithful comrade can be said to be one's alter ego. I do not betray myself. If faithful and obliging comrades unite, they can prevail against Heaven itself. This is why I always say if one gains enough comrades, he can win the world, and if one is forsaken by one's comrades, one will lose the world.
The word "comrade" (dong-ji) means "like-minded". The mind is inseparable from ideology. The relationship between comrades formed through temporary interests or mental calculation cannot be solid; it breaks up easily, depending on the circumstances. But the relationship of comrades based on ideology and will is eternal; even bullets or gallows cannot break it. The Korean revolution has produced many comrades who showed noble examples of fidelity. They constitute a galaxy around us.
After Kim Chaik's death, we named Songjin, a city near his home village, the Chongjin Iron Works, an enterprise associated with his devoted life, and Pyongyang University of Technology after him; namely, KimChaik City, Kim Chaik Iron Works and Kim Chaik University of Technology. A military academy was also named after him. A large statue of him stands in KimChaik City.
I hope that the city, the enterprise and the university named after him will always take the lead in socialist construction. Kim Chaik hated following in the wake of others. He always stood in the vanguard. He had made significant contributions to our industry. Whenever I see factories and enterprises that perform poorly, I say to myself, "If only Kim Chaik were here. If only Kim Chaik were alive." When Kim Chaik was Minister of Industry, our industry ran smoothly. Some of our industry officials who are still active once had worked with him, and I hope they will not make his service to the building of our industry go down the drain.