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| Itaewon at night, published in The Korea Times Sept. 28, 1988. / Korea Times Archive |
By Martin Limon
When I was a young soldier, I would occasionally admit to someone that one of the reasons I kept returning to Korea was for the live entertainment. Invariably, this always astounded them.
"You're going over there for that?"
"There" in the 1950s and 1960s was a third-world country struggling to rise out of poverty. "That" was a Korean entertainment industry which ― unlike today ― had made little or no impression on the wider world and, as far as most Americans were concerned, may as well not have even existed.
When I further added that the live shows were performed in on-base nightclubs complete with lighting, sound systems and dance floors, all in huge ballrooms with seating for up to 100 people, they peered at me suspiciously, wondering if I was delusional. To them, U.S. military activities played out on an austere stage of parade grounds, barracks and obstacle courses, similar to the backdrops they'd seen in comic strips like Beetle Bailey or Sad Sack or the Jim Nabors character Gomer Pyle. Later, the overwhelmingly popular TV series "M*A*S*H" reinforced that view.
But entertainment was one of the reasons old soldiers gave when they whispered to one another about an assignment in Korea being "the best-kept secret in the Army."
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| Martin Limon / Courtesy of Martin Limon |
During the 1950s, three young women known as the Kim Sisters performed on U.S. military bases throughout Korea. They were such a hit that an American talent agent got wind of them and sponsored their move to the United States. They appeared more than two dozen times on the hugely popular "Ed Sullivan Show" and soon became headliners on the Las Vegas Strip.
I arrived in Korea in 1968 and was fortunate to see a full review showband known as the Locks and Keys. The female chanteuse belted out "Where the Boys Are" better, I thought, than Connie Francis who performed it in the movie of the same name. And the male lead was a master of impersonations who mimicked Louis Armstrong so well that you'd be excused if you thought Satchmo was in the room.
Over the years the legendary Patti Kim performed at the 8th Army Officers Club and at the United States Overseas Mission (USOM) Club, which was sponsored by the U.S. Embassy. She was probably the biggest performer in Korea of her era. This was on South Post of Yongsan Compound, an enclave reserved mostly for officers and their families, so few junior enlisted men were able to see her.
It was in the 1970s that I became a connoisseur of entertainment in the military club circuit. I made a point of keeping track of the event calendars and moved from club to club and even from compound to compound to enjoy my favorite bands. But of all the many great bands, in my mind, the Grand Ole Opry reigned supreme. I had never been a fan of country music but when their female lead singer, Kimchi Kitty, performed her rendition of the smash Tammy Wynette hit "Stand By Your Man" I became a believer. It seemed as if she was talking directly to me. Unfortunately, no such luck.
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| A now-priceless Korean Grand Ole Opry album at Dol Record in Hwanghak Market, seen in 2012. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar |
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| The back cover of the Korean Grand Ole Opry record at Dol Record in Hwanghak Market, seen in 2012. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar |
There were also a number of USO shows that came through. The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders were popular in those days and their shows were always well attended. Even Bob Hope appeared, once with the beautiful young actress, Ann Margaret. The turnout was so huge that they had to use Collier Field House, the gymnasium on South Post, to accommodate the crowd. However those types of appearances were rare and the Korean bands supplied most of the musical background to the era.
As the Korean economy grew during the 1970s and 1980s, more civilian entertainment venues were seeking local talent and the competition to play on the military bases lessened. To fill the gap, Filipino musicians began to be imported, some of them eventually staying in Korea for years and even learning the language and customs of their newly adopted homeland.
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| Itaewon restaurants, published in The Korea Times Sept. 28, 1988. / Korea Times Archive |
With the advent of the electronic technologies we're all so familiar with, the demand for live entertainment has waned in recent decades. To me, being set in my ways, technology will never replace the talented performers I was privileged, as a young soldier, to be so impressed by. They represented a country that was striving to rise from poverty and shake off the shattering devastation of the Korean War. But now young Korean performers represent a country that, through an act of sheer will, has developed not only a booming economy but also the international phenomenon of K-pop. A genre which, as far as I can tell, has conquered the world.
I didn't see it coming back then but I should have. Korean musical talent is too vibrant to be repressed.
Martin Limon spent 20 years in the military, 10 of which were in Korea on three tours: 1968-69, 1973-76 and 1977-80. He is now a full-time writer having published 15 novels set in Korea's modern past, featuring CID detectives Sueno and Bascom. His latest is "War Women."
