bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

helpersCheckIsPostiesArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

articleSchemaContent

liveArticle

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

moreOnThisArticles

urlAlias

commentCount

sponsorType

authorLocations

authors

paywallTypes

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

socialHeadline

headline

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

publishedDate

additionalInfoBoxes

images

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

createdDate

sponsor

factSheets

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

copyrighted

customTimezone

liveContents

Andrew Salmon

If war ever breaks out in Northeast Asia, a fair bet for ground zero is the small South Korean island of Yeonpyeong.
Lying just 12 kilometres off the coast of North Korea, it was the target two years ago of the first North Korean artillery strike since the 1950-1953 Korean War.
Today, its garrison is digging in deep and residents of the 17- square-kilometre island are determined to stay on - whatever the risk.
"People living here have been here 60 years, on average," Kang Myung-song, 67, the president of the island's residents' community told visiting reporters last week. "People don't want to leave. It's our hometown."
Kang remembers the events of November 23, 2010, like yesterday. "There was an unbelievable noise - deafening, indescribable, a noise I'd never heard before," he said. "I saw smoke and ran for the shelter."
Another resident, 83-year-old Kim Yoo-sung, was stunned when every window and door of his house suddenly blew in.
But he knew what the noise was - a veteran of the Korean War, he'd heard artillery before.
It had already been a tense year. That spring, a South Korean corvette had been sunk by a North Korean submarine.
On the bright morning of November 23, South Korean forces on Yeonpyeong were carrying out artillery drills, firing into open waters west of the island. North Korea telexed South Korea, demanding a halt.
When South Korea ignored the demand, North Korean rocket launchers on the mainland and artillery in caves on a nearby island let fly.
A barrage screamed into Yeonpyeong. Buildings were shattered and hillside foliage blazed. South Korean artillery on the island replied. The noise continued for more than two hours.
At the end of it, four South Koreans lay dead and 16 were wounded.
Two years later, the trauma lingers. "People here can't sleep right," Kim said. "People wake up in the middle of the night in fear."
Signs of the attack are difficult to miss in Yeonpyeong's little port. A gaping hole in a waterfront wall has peaceful hands painted around it.
A chunk of shrapnel-scarred masonry lies in a government office car park.
A block of cottages shattered in the barrage - their inhabitants were luckily working in the fields at the time - stands in permanent remembrance.
"We have to preserve it as it is," said Kang. A museum is being built over the blackened ruins. While many Yeonpyeong residents fled after the attack - Kim decamped to the port city of Incheon, where he lived for three months - most returned.
The island's population has increased. Incoming military and their families have bolstered the garrison, and construction workers are upgrading defences and rebuilding nearly 40 homes destroyed in the attack. Students also visit to learn about security.
The island bustles with martial activity. It is garrisoned by some of the fiercest troops in Asia - South Korean marines - who are digging in deep.
Firing points overlook crossroads, artillery is positioned in bunkers in rugged hills and scenic beaches are wired off.
A tank squats by a roadside and an armoured troop carrier lies in wait, its nose painted like the snout of a shark.
Seoul refuses to divulge troop numbers, but a marine admitted Yeonpyeong's military population now outnumbers its 1,987 civilians.
Could there be another attack? Yeonpyeong and other South Korean islands off the North Korean coast - some were used during the war as launch points for partisan operations - threaten Pyongyang.
Moreover, the Yellow Sea border, the Northern Limit Line, was unilaterally drawn by the United Nations at the end of the war.
North Korea has challenged the line since the 1970s and there were naval clashes in the area in 1999, 2002 and 2010.
Goh Young-hwan, a North Korean defector who works for Seoul's Institute for National Security Strategy, said North Korean leader Kim Jong-un needs to bolster his credentials.
"The only way to secure his leadership is operations against South Korea," he said.
"It could be a submarine attack or a landing on an island near the sea border."
But the islanders stay defiant. Asked what message he would like to send to those who planned the bombardment, Kim was to the point. "I'd like to beat the hell out of them!" he said.


South Korea’s martial law bid seen as ‘political suicide’ for Yoon as impeachment looms

South Korea’s Yoon back-pedals on firing bazooka in knife fight

South Korea’s Yoon faces impeachment after martial law ‘catastrophic miscalculation’, warn analysts

Hong Kong residents reticent to get latest Covid-19 jab, Moderna survey finds

South Korea

Yeonpyeong islanders remain defiant, two years after North Korean attack

Hands of peace decorate a gaping hole in a waterfront wall on Yeonpyeong Island left by the North Korean artillery barrage of November 23, 2010. Photo: Andrew Salmon

Yeonpyeong Island

News

Asia

Nearly two years after North Korea's deadly onslaught left Yeonpyeong reeling, residents refuse to leave despite being outnumbered by military


North Korea