Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 - Tongrim Reeducation Camp

North Korea operates hundreds of prisons and detention centers of various types, but only a couple dozen current and former sites have been properly identified through the use of satellite imagery and witness testimony. 

Map of known kwan-li-so (yellow text) and kyo-hwa-so (white text) prisons that remain open, with Tongrim marked out.

In this article, I want to review the Tongrim reeducation camp (properly known as Kyo-hwa-so No. 2, Tongrim). Although there is little public information available (as with the Sunchon kyo-hwa-so), I want to provide a baseline of information about its history and development (as observed by satellite imagery) to help facilitate future research.

The reeducation camp (which are known as a kyo-hwa-so) at Tongrim is one such facility that has been mentioned by defectors - although not in detail - and listed in human rights reports going back to at least 2011 (by the Database Center for North Korean Human Rights). While its exact location has not been verified by prison survivors, former guards or former local residents, through the use of commercial satellite imagery a clear candidate stands out.

Located at (39.877265° 124.727696°) 2.6 km northeast of the Tongrim train station is this complex of buildings and walled compounds. 

Tongrim and Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 locations.

North Korean authorities began arresting political opponents as early as 1947 (before the actual founding of the North Korean state), and the number of prisons proliferated through the 1950s and 1960s.

When Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 was established isn't known, but declassified low-resolution (2-4 ft) imagery from the KH-9 satellite shows the site going back to at least 1973, meaning the prison was established some time before then. Earlier images from the USGA's EarthExplorer program exist but their resolutions are too low to make any clear determination.

Kyo-hwa-so reeducation camps are typically used to house "redeemable" prisoners. Following a period of hard labor and ideological “training”, prisoners may be released. The larger kwan-li-so political prison camps house more serious offenders and prisoners are held for a longer period of time or even for the rest of their lives.

All known kyo-hwa-so and kwan-li-so prison camps use forced labor. From mining coal to making uniforms and even fake eyelashes, proceeds from prison labor provides millions of dollars in revenue to the state each year. 

Having said that, the exact forms of forced labor used at Tongrim aren't known. However, the prison sits at the base of a stone quarry, so it's logical to assume that the prisoners are used to extract stone (among other activities). 

The earliest high-resolution commercial imagery of Tongrim comes from 2005. 

Kyo-who-so No. 2, Tongrim. Image of prison and quarry from May 2005.

The prison complex can be separated into three main sections: administrative, prisoner barracks, and the quarry.

Unlike the larger kwan-li-so political prison camps, the area around Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 isn't surrounded by a perimeter fence. The prison and quarry extend about 1 km along a small mountain valley, with three sides flanked by rocky terrain. But only the prisoner barracks have any sort of fence or wall around them.

Detailed view of the main prison area from 2005.

The main administrative and support area has a number of different buildings. What the purpose of each building is can't currently be known with certainty, but it will likely have a main administrative building, a dining hall, a building for ideological and political training, as well as a guard barracks and a vehicle storage and repair facility. 

The administrative area also has a ~270 sq. m. building that is surrounded by a wall. This building is similar to one described at the former Kwan-li-so No. 22 in Hoeryong as being an interrogation center. I will discuss this in more detail near the end of the article.

The prisoner section consists of a walled compound that occupies 1.56 hectares and has nine buildings inside it. The main gate is protected by a guard building and a security tower. There are also prisoner barracks and workshops within the walled perimeter.

The guard building is approximately 180 square meters in size. The prisoner barracks is a large, single-story L-shaped building with approximately 950 sq. m. of floor space.

Based on witness testimony from other prisons, the prisoner barracks will have a number of rooms that hold prisoners and other rooms such as a latrine and guard room. It may also have a dining room, interrogation room, a medical room, and other offices or closets; although, those could also be housed in other buildings within the compound.

In terms of the prisoner population, in 2005 it is unlikely that Tongrim held more than 2,500 individuals.

Tongrim quarry, 2005.

Attached to the prison complex is a rock quarry. The primary quarry is roughly 400 meters long. A rail spur coming from the main Pyongui Line (2.7 km south of the quarry) enables loading and transport of the quarried materials. 

In 2005, the rail line, an explosives storage area with two storage buildings, and a cluster of six nearby support buildings and two greenhouses existed. 

Additional support structures and material transport infrastructure existed within the quarry site itself.

Tongrim prison in 2010.

By 2010, the workshop area by the prison's administration, noted in the 2005 image, had conclusively been converted into a barracks, and a perimeter wall was erected around the site. The new building within the perimeter wall has approximately 600 sq. m. of floor space and the wall enclosed an area of nearly 3,800 sq. m. This addition may have provided space for up to 500 new prisoners or to create an area to segregate a new class of prisoners among the existing population (segregated by sex, severity of the crimes, or perhaps by songbun class).

An entrance gate and guard tower were added, as well as a smaller tower in the northernmost corner of the new compound.

At the main prisoner compound, a new 26-meter-long building was constructed.

Between 2005 and 2010, little changed at the quarry.

Tongrim prison in 2012.

The main change at the prison between 2010 and 2012 is that the perimeter wall of the newer compound was extended northward to enclose two 30-meter-long greenhouses and a connected support building which the prisoners operate. Whether the food is grown for the prisoners, for the guards, or to sell can't be determined.

Based on the imagery available, the foundations for the greenhouses were laid in April 2010 and so they were likely completed in that year.

Tongrim prison in 2014.

By 2014, a new ~120 sq. m. building had been constructed within the main prison compound. 

In the administrative area, an unidentified building had its roof replaced (now covered in blue tiles). The removal of the old roof is actually visible in the 2012 image, but it's not annotated.

Tongrim quarry, 2014.

At the quarry, by May 2014 the number of support buildings fell from six in 2005 to just three. An area of active quarrying is also clearly visible at the southern end of the quarry. This location has been the main site of activity since 2005.

Tongrim prison in 2019.

In the main prison compound, between 2014 and 2017, the 26-meter-long building that was constructed ca. 2010 had been razed. And between 2017 and 2019, the ~120 sq. m. building that was built ca. 2014 was also razed.

Additionally, the greenhouses in the small walled compound were also removed between 2018 and 2019.

The 2014 to 2019 timeframe represents the first period of major demolition at Tongrim. 

Tongrim prison in 2021.

By 2021, the extended perimeter wall at the smaller compound had been removed, reducing the walled area back to its original size.

In the main prisoner compound, the grounds have become overgrown with vegetation, possibly a crop.

This would not be unusual as North Korea attempts to cultivate every potential area it can from prisons to military bases. And, yet another building has been razed (occurring between Nov. 2019 and February 2020).

The workshop buildings, however, have started to show signs of disrepair, with fairly extensive roof damage visible in 2021. (More limited roof damage can be seen as far back as 2019.) Buildings at other prisons and industrial areas routinely show damaged roofs, but it can often serve as an indicator of the level of activity at and importance of a particular structure or facility. 

Regardless of the damage at the workshops, the rest of the prison complex appears to be well maintained. 

Tongrim quarry in 2021.

At the quarry, activity levels have declined, and more buildings have been demolished since 2014.

The storage buildings that held the explosives used at the quarry have been removed. And a total of three support structures within the quarry were also razed. 

The area of active quarrying also appears to have moved to a small area near the loading facility, with no new changes since ca. 2019 to the southern site mentioned previously.

Tongrim prison in 2024.

The biggest change in 2023-24 was the total demolition of the workshop buildings within the main prison compound. Whether this is a permanent situation or if they will rebuild a new one, only time will tell. But it follows a multi-year trend of demolitions.

Tongrim quarry in 2024.

The demolition trend extends to the quarry site as well, with the railway building being razed in 2023-24. At this part of the quarry, only two of the eleven or so nearby support buildings that existed in 2005 still stand today, and the explosives storage site also remains closed.

Importantly, the prison's rail connection to the main Pyongui Line (2.7 km south of the quarry) was removed ca. 2020-21, and the last section of rails were removed from the quarry in either 2023 or early 2024.

A comparison of images from 2010 and 2024 (below) paints a fairly clear picture that quarry operations are being wound down if they haven't yet been stopped entirely.

A wide view of the quarry area in 2010.

In 2010, operations at the quarry were ongoing and numerous support buildings existed. The brightness of the quarry and rock faces is indicative of activity levels; the brighter the more recent.

A wide view of the quarry area in 2024.

As mentioned, by March 2024 most of the buildings have been removed, the rail line is gone, and much of the quarry itself has become covered in dirt and vegetation, indicating little to no recent activity.

I want to take the opportunity to also talk about some other features and changes to the prison that deal more directly with people's lives.

As mentioned near the beginning, Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 has a separate walled building in the administrative area. The building is ~26 meters long and is surrounded by a wall that is positioned quite close to the building itself. It has its own entry gate to the south and there is a guard tower on the northeast corner of the wall.

Walled building in 2024.

The building is similar in its size and location within the prison complex as another building that was located in Kwan-li-so No. 22 in Hoeryong. Before the prison was closed in 2012, a former guard attested that the building was used to interrogate prisoners and even torture them.

Based on the available visual and contextual evidence, I believe that this building may be where prisoners are interrogated at Tongrim. 

According to the UN's Commission of Inquiry on Human Rights in North Korea, "torture is an established feature of the interrogation process", with many prisoners dying during the process or suffering from permanent injury. 

Also of note, despite the demolition of other buildings around the prison, security has been tightened around the main prisoner barracks.

In December 2022, the barracks was surrounded by a tall wall as the primary physical barrier.

Main prison compound in 2022.

But between 2023 and 2024, a fence was erected around the barracks, making freedom of movement even more limited, and effectively reducing the overall size of the compound in which prisoners could walk around in by more than half (to 0.6 ha, down from 1.56 ha).

Main prison compound in 2024 with new fence outlined.

The last activity at Tongrim I want to discuss is the visibility of a large number of prisoners on the March 8, 2024 image. Catching individuals on satellite is uncommon and one of the most cited examples, at Chongjin in 2018, showed but a handful of individuals. 

But in the below image, over 100 individuals are visible and more can be seen walking along the main road nearer the quarry. And this is just the most recent example, as prisoners can be seen in several previous images on Google Earth.

It can perhaps be easy when viewing sites through satellite to forget that the places we look at are connected to human beings living real lives. Whether it's a school, factory, prison, or any other place, the pixels we're seeing are comprised of the lives, struggles, work, and happiness of other people.

Unfortunately, the one's we're seeing below are made up from a regime that commits among the worst human rights abuses in history and does so through the torment of countless individuals, many of whom committed no crime that would be recognized anywhere else in the world.

Prisoners can be seen on satellite in multiple locations, 2024.

North Korea has hundreds of penal facilities of numerous types and sizes with Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 making up one small part of a system that imprisons over 150,000 at any given moment. And through this review, we can see that North Korea's detention system continues to be dynamic, with new buildings constructed, old buildings removed, and people marched from place to place engaged in forced labor throughout all seasons.

Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 also provides some insight into changes within the overall system.

Although none of the prisoner barracks or security installations of Kyo-hwa-so No. 2 have been removed, the removal of multiple workshops and other support buildings throughout the complex suggests that the prison is undergoing a reorganization and may be preparing to be downsized, as occurred at Kyo-hwa-so No. 88 in Wonsan, and its human "resources" reengaged in other types of labor. 

Indeed, DailyNK reported in 2017 that Tongrim was actually converted into an orphanage. However, that use is hard to reconcile with the visible security features at the site such as the new fence erected around the barracks, and the fact that dedicated orphanages already exist. If there was such a change at Tongrim, then it is an orphanage in name only. In practice, it would serve more as a juvenile detention facility where the children are treated little better than adult prisoners (and also used for forced labor).

These changes highlight the need for continued observation of Tongrim but in the end, witness testimony will be required to answer some of these questions. Ultimately, it is up to the North Korean government to begin to uphold its obligations under domestic and international law, to cease the operation of its vast constellation of prisons, to allow independent international observers to visit all prisons to document any human rights abuses, and to place those responsible for crimes against humanity at the hands of justice.

Other prison reviews by AccessDPRK:

1. Review of the Sunchon Kyo-hwa-so (2024)

2. Is Wonsan Prison No. 88 Closing? (2021)

3. Chongjin Prison Camp Update (2019)

4. Prison Camp No. 22 Today (2018)

I would like to thank my current Patreon supporters who help make all of this possible: Donald Pearce, David M., Dylan D, Joe Bishop-Henchman, Joel Parish, John Pike, Jonathan J., Kbechs87, Raymond Ha, Russ Johnson, Squadfan, and Yong H. 

--Jacob Bogle, Aug. 21, 2024 (edited Aug. 22)

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The Development of North Korea's Northern Border Wall

Ever since the mass defections and rise in illegal trade caused by the 1990s famine, North Korea has tightened its grip on border security with increasing severity, but its northern border was still far from impenetrable. 

Despite fences and guard patrols, along with inhospitable terrain and weather on both sides of the Yalu and Tumen rivers, plus China's repatriation policies, total defections could reach several thousand each year. While most defectors remain in China in hiding, between 1,000 and 2,000 would make it to South Korea annually since about 2001.

But as the COVID pandemic spread, North Korea was not only faced with a possible existential threat due to the poor state of the country's healthcare system, but it was also faced with an opportunity - to use the pandemic as an excuse to finally (and completely) close down the border.

In the intervening four years, the physical barriers associated with the "border wall" were built, altered, and now appear to be undergoing a final series of changes.

In this article, I will lay out the development and current state of North Korea's anti-pandemic border measures now that the threat of the pandemic has waned, and as Pyongyang seeks to at least partially reopen its borders. 

3D render of a section of renovated border fence. This section features a levee, a double-row of fencing, guard posts, and a border guard garrison is in the background (right). Created by Nathan J. Hunt for AccessDPRK.

As far as I'm aware, I was the first person to note (with the aid of satellite imagery) that North Korea was increasing its border security with a Spotlight Report published by AllSource Analysis back in April 2021.

The report highlighted changes around the border town of Hoeryong, particularly noting an increase in the number of guard posts and the now ubiquitous primary and secondary lines of fencing.

Chronologically, however, one of the earliest examples of improved security following the border's closure in January 2020, was the addition of guard posts in Ryongchon County (south of Sinuiju) in September 2020.

Location of new guard posts built in 2020 along a section of older border fence in Ryongchon.

However, according to DailyNK reporting, the order to build a new border fence across the entire border wasn't issued by Kim Jong Un until February 2021. 

The addition of new guard posts may have been a separate order followed by a new (Feb. 2021) order to build the border fence, or perhaps the earliest order may not yet have come to light. Regardless, the timeline of increased border security was not uniform, with some areas undergoing construction sooner and others delayed. But by 2021, work was underway along the full North Korean border with China and Russia.

As mentioned, the first activity seen was the installation of thousands of small guard posts. Most were along the existing border fences, but some were placed in the middle of fields or atop river levees. In total, I have estimated that up to 15,000 guard posts dotted the landscape at the height of the pandemic.

Following the installation of numerous guard posts, secondary fence was then constructed behind the main border fence. The secondary fence was located anywhere from just a few meters behind the main fence to several hundred meters behind, and it cut through agricultural fields, forests, spanned rivers, and even incorporated the boundaries of factories and houses.

This secondary fence, based on a range of tourist photographs taken from the Chinese side of the border, was built out of either wood or reeds, depending on the raw materials available in each locality. 

Annotated photo of the DPRK border at Namyang showing the main border fence and the secondary fence made out of reeds. Annotations by AccessDPRK. Photograph comes from Weibo, March 2023.

To accomplish the work, construction units logged local forests and built temporary work camps in multiple locations along the border. 

Area of interest near Chang-ni in 2020, prior to logging.

Area of interest showing logging activities in 2022.

Timber piles for fence construction in Chunggang County, 2022.

Elsewhere, logs being staged for use in fence construction can be seen. In the above example, that area had simply been empty previously. No logging or storage activity existed prior to this event.

The work camps, as seen below, are standard for any large-scale construction project such as at the major residential projects underway in Pyongyang. 

One of multiple temporary, small worker's camps along the Taehongdan section of the Sino-DPRK border.

One of the temporary worker's camps in Musan.

Given the logistics of building a border fence across more than 1,000 km of highly variable terrain, instead of having a single centralized worker's camp, the camps (with their housing, workshops, and other facilities) are dispersed; with dozens of them along the border, each housing only few dozen to a few hundred workers. 

Worker's camp near Onsong. Numerous small buildings can be seen in October 2022.

The Onsong camp had been removed by May 2023 and the meandering secondary fence completed.

Following the addition of guard posts to tighten security and the wooden secondary fence that served to cut off access to the areas under construction, any original border fencing was then demolished section by section.

The next steps taken were to reenforce, rebuild, or newly construct flood barriers in places prone to flooding, and then building the new fence on top of those levees - with each province (and likely each county) responsible for providing most of the manpower and materials needed within their jurisdiction.

On a bend of the Tumen River, 2 km away from the Onsong worker's camp, a new levee was under construction in 2022.

By May 2023, the levee was largely completed, and the new electrified fence was placed on top. However, some soil grading activity was still ongoing. 

In at least one area, in Rason, a new quarry was opened to provide the materials needed for local levees. 

Rason quarry, with both the new main fence and secondary fence visible.

New fences were also constructed on hills and mountainsides, areas that were often left poorly controlled prior to COVID and that served as routes of defection.

The previous border fence was just a single row of barbed-wire fencing with guard posts that were only concentrated near populated areas and areas where defections were less physically difficult (open fields, narrow parts of rivers, etc.) Guard posts were often 1 km apart or even farther, and the wide reservoirs along the Yalu lacked fencing in general. 

The main border fence now comprises two rows of tall fence, allegedly electrified, with a patrol road along it. And the secondary fence appears to have become a permanent part of the system as well. 

Guard posts are considerably closer together and can be found along the entire length of the border - even in remote areas. Guard posts are positioned on both the main and secondary fences. Fencing was also added to the previously unprotected reservoirs (such as the Sup'ung Reservoir) and electronic surveillance infrastructure was improved.

Construction of the new fence was carried out by border guards, local labor brigades and, due to the immense manpower requirements, military units from XI Corps (Storm Corps) were also used. However, the same manpower requirements that necessitated the use of the military to help construct the border fence also temporarily drained the readiness of the corps.

After first being fortified with additional guard posts, the fence path in this area was moved further inland to follow an existing road. 

Between 2021-2023, fence paths were adjusted to improve local security and as better paths were identified during construction. 

Along with the fences and guard posts, over 400 border guard garrisons now dot the landscape. Most of the garrisons existed before COVID and many had already been renovated ca. 2016, but new ones were still constructed, and other changes were made to existing sites.

Example of a border guard garrison.

However, there have been changes to the level of security seen earlier on in the fence's development. What I would describe as being overkill in the number of guard posts (and thus guards needed) has been relaxed, with many redundant positions removed. 

Nonetheless, the northern North Korean border has become one of the most well-secured civilian borders in the world. Presently along the northern border are over 400 guard posts, 10,000-13,000 guard posts, and approximately 2,100 km of primary and secondary fencing has been identified by AccessDPRK.

Combined with increased security on the Chinese side of the border and enhancements to the DPRK coastal fence as well, it is unlikely that defection rates will return to previously seen levels anytime soon. (Only 196 made it to South Korea in 2023.)

Animation showing the development of a section of border fence from July 2020 to October 2023.

3D render of the same section of fence with the border guard garrison building shown on the left. Created by Nathan J. Hunt for AccessDPRK.

Note: if you'd like to learn more about how North Korea's border closure has impacted the lives of average North Koreans, check out this in-depth report from Human Rights Watch which I assisted with.

I would like to thank my current Patreon supporters who help make all of this possible: Alex Kleinman, Amanda Oh, Donald Pearce, Douglas Martin, David M., Dylan D, Joe Bishop-Henchman, Joel Parish, John Pike, Jonathan J., Kbechs87, Raymond Ha, Russ Johnson, Squadfan, and Yong H. 

--Jacob Bogle, 7/23/2024

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www.JacobBogle.com
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Kim's 116-km-Long Palace Highway

Access to the various palaces and villas around the country is provided by relatively short runs of roadway - a few kilometers or so - coming off of the local road network. But there is also a highway that runs nearly the entire length of a province that is dedicated to providing transportation between two palaces: Changsong and Hyangsan. 

Map of the overall system, with the palace highway in white and National Highway 65 in black.

Starting in the early 1990s, a 116 km-long and tree-lined highway was constructed over the course of about three years. 

The highway begins at National Highway 65, just south of the town of Hyangsan. From there, it goes west, winding its way through forested hills and low mountains, until it reaches the Changsong Palace complex on the Chinese border. The villas at Hyangsan are accessible from NH65 and are approximately 20 km from the on-ramp to the palace highway.

Unlike civilian roads, the highway is only sparsely connected to local road networks with intersections. I was able to locate a total of 14 intersections, but several of them are actually part of the palace highway to enable Kim's motorcade to bypass tunnels in the event one collapses or is otherwise blocked. And at least one intersection is simply for a small access road to a military base. 

The palace highway cut through an original local road in multiple spots (such as imaged here), rendering it useless for long distance travel.

What also became apparent while looking for intersections, is that the highway was built over the path an older road which connected the northern parts of North Pyongan Province. Now, that older road is highly fragmented, with parts being completely disused. And the locals are largely left with winding dirt paths instead of a paved highway. 

Obong-ri Leadership Train Station.

The palace highway is also connected to the Kim's leadership rail network through another road that leads from the Obong-ri Leadership Train Station (40.305346° 125.205669°), north of the town of Taegwan. The station itself was constructed ca. 1990-91 and a road leads from the station and connects to the main highway 12 km away.

The Obong-ri Leadership Station is unique among the two dozen or so other leadership train stations because it also contains an underground support facility.

It's impossible to go anywhere in North Korea and not be near some kind of military installation, but as an aside, I do think it's worth noting that the highway runs within 5 km of the Unsal MOUT (military operations on urbanized terrain) training complex which is the largest in the country, two other large bases, and the Taegwan Ballistic Missile Base.

Changsong Runway (built ca. 2017).

In light of Kim Jong Un's penchant for flying and building runways at his favored palaces, one might ask why the highway was built at all when Kim Jong Il could have simply opted to fly, like Kim Jong Un has. Well, Kim Jong Il was terrified of flying. So, he only ever took trains and motorcades; flying only when absolutely necessary (the last time I'm aware of a flight was back in 1965).

And so, it makes a lot of sense that he would have invested in having a dedicated road built to connect two of the Kim's most enjoyed getaways. 

Since Kim Jong Un does seem to prefer to fly, with a runway at Changsong and helipads at both Changsong and Hyangsan, it is unclear whether or not the highway plays the same role as it did during his father's life. Occasionally, some of the intersections appear to be blocked off, and there aren't examples of normal traffic flow. So the highway is still restricted, but it may be getting a lot less use than in the past.

The highway is yet another example of the Kim family treating the resources of North Korea as their own personal property by destroying civilian infrastructure in order to build a private road that will have used a tremendous amount of resources that could have otherwise been used to help the people.

I would like to thank my current Patreon supporters who help make all of this possible: Alex Kleinman, David M., Amanda Oh, Donald Pierce, Dylan D, Joe Bishop-Henchman, Jonathan J, Joel Parish, John Pike, Kbechs87, Russ Johnson, Yong H.

--Jacob Bogle, 6/9/2024

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Lost Villages of the DMZ

The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) that divides the two Koreas takes its shape from the battle lines that existed at the time of its creation in 1953 as part of the Armistice, which froze the Korean War but didn't officially end it.

During three years of war, North Korea was heavily bombed and the area that became the DMZ was turned into a veritable wasteland. 

DigitalNK map showing the concentration of US B-29 bombing targets during the Korean War.

But, of course, the area that became the DMZ had previously been home to villages, families, and farms. According to the International Institute for Asian Studies the areas encompassed by the DMZ had 466 villages and 20 townships, all of which were destroyed either during the course of the war or permanently emptied as part of the creation of the DMZ in 1953. 

This rural expanse across the peninsula was where life played out for the thousands of people who had worked the land for centuries. It crosses coastal terrain, plains, wetlands, forests, and mountains, and was also home to thousands of plant and animal species.

The DMZ with 1969 map overlay.

Using a 1969 Central Intelligence Agency map of the DMZ as an overlay, I began to mark the general locations of former villages on satellite. I then referred back to the original maps from the 1953 Armistice agreement to help me improve the accuracy of each location placement, using river bends, bridges, known hills, and coastal features to keep each of the nine map sections aligned as accurately as possible.

Map overlays from the 1953 Armistice. 

The scales of the two maps differ and the CIA map is 1:250,000, meaning it could only serve as a general guide in the initial process. But the 1953 maps are scaled at 1:50,000, and so I am fairly confident that, for the purposes of this article, I was able to locate each village within 50-70 meters of their center.

Geolocated former villages along the DMZ.

In total, I was able to mark 139 of the larger former villages and towns (on either side of the Military Demarcation Line). After 71 years, very little to anything still remains. Wooden structures would have been torn down or burned and stone foundations would have likely been removed to be used on buildings elsewhere; sporadic fires are also lit to help clear the land and maintain lines of sight for the military.

Additionally, as noted by IIAS, although the original DMZ stipulates an area 4 km wide, the firm boundaries have shifted over the decades leaving today's DMZ approximately 40% smaller than what was first envisioned. In the areas that were cleared for the DMZ but that do not lie within the fenced-off "no man's land", the land that once held many of the lost villages is still used in agriculture for reeds, pasture, and crop cultivation.

This means that on top of erosion caused by time, the villages have been subjected to farming activities that further degrade their ruins, slowly erasing any traces left.

An example of this can be seen at the former villages in an area called Sasi-ri (38.006801° 126.785957°), which, despite being within the 1953 DMZ boundary, some lay nearly 1.5 km outside of today's DMZ fences. The only manmade structures now visible are North Korean military sites.

The area of Sasi-ri. The vegetation shows up very clearly on this Oct. 26, 2016 satellite image. The white line is the original DMZ path as laid out in the Armistice. The yellow line is the secondary fence, and the black line is the primary DMZ fence on the North Korean side.

At the far end of the DMZ, along the East Sea, the former town of P'ooejin now serves as a garden plot for a North Korean guard post. And the village of Kangjong has been replaced by the south-north Mt. Kumgang highway.

P'ooejin and Kangjong. 

There are also examples of what are possible reminders of the war itself - a series of bomb craters in the hillsides at 38.043244° 126.831477°. Four villages were within 1 km of the site, Hagomil-tong, Sanggomil-tong, Padaul, and Polmal. Other such sites exist elsewhere along the DMZ.

Several craters have been highlighted in this image. Given their location within the DMZ, they would not have been caused by artillery exercises.

One of the largest former settlements is on the South Korean side and was called Tongjang-ni (37.900293° 126.689618°). Today, the road built as part of the joint Kaesong Industrial Complex runs along the northern outskirts of the former town. Hints of the town's main road may still be visible but without direct exploration of the area, the image is open to interpretation. 

Location of Tongjang-ni.

The war also resulted in the destruction of historic places, and the creation of the DMZ has prevented further archeological study of some. Based on the 1953 maps, this site is an ancient fortress. It is the only one I know of that still retains clear remains within the DMZ itself, but there are several other historic forts on both banks of the Han River estuary; access to which is limited due to the border security situation.

Outline of the fort's walls.

Despite the passage of time, interest in these lost villages remains and the South Korean Ministry of Unification re-created several of the larger villages virtually within the Metaverse in 2022.

As the last former residents pass away, the living memory of these places may vanish. But with modern tools like satellite archeology, they can remain within our collective memory. 

For those interested, I am making the Google Earth file with the 1953 overlays and the 139 village locations available to all paid Patreon supporters upon request.

I would like to thank my current Patreon supporters who help make all of this possible: Alex Kleinman, David M., Amanda Oh, Donald Pierce, Dylan D, Joe Bishop-Henchman, Jonathan J, Joel Parish, John Pike, Kbechs87, Russ Johnson, and Squadfan.

--Jacob Bogle, May 21, 2024

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www.JacobBogle.com
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Reprocessing Activity at the Pakchon Uranium Concentration Pilot Plant

The Pakchon Uranium Concentration Pilot Plant is North Korea's first uranium concentration plant. Converted from a graphite processing facility, Pakchon began to process uranium ore into "yellowcake" in 1982. Based on open-source information and satellite observations, it has likely been in caretaker status since 2002. But, as previously reported by AccessDPRK, low-level activities have continued at the plant.

The Pakchon Uranium Concentration Pilot Plant as of February 2024.

According to the Center for Strategic and International Studies, such low-level activities may involve "small processing runs of iron-bearing ore of some type, caretaker maintenance work, or decommissioning of equipment within the plant." 

However, recent satellite imagery suggests additional kinds of activity are now taking place.

A series of chemical or slurry tanks were constructed at the waste material reservoir between September 2021 and February 2024, along with small support structures and a new ~240 sq. meter holding or settling pond. 

By Sept. 2021, some of the structures needed to reprocess the waste material had been constructed, including a dry materials storage site and some unidentified support structures. Some material from the old waste reservoir was also already being removed.

Then, by Feb. 2024, we see a number of other additions that include seven chemical tanks and a holding or settling pond, as well as other support structures. 

This opens up two main possible explanations for the activity. 1) that the waste material is being reprocessed to extract rare earth elements (REEs) or even residual uranium; 2) that the plant is actually undertaking an environmental remediation program to clean up the industrial waste.

Frank V. Pabian, former IAEA Nuclear Chief Inspector for Iraq, told AccessDPRK that it is most probable that they "are setting up to process the old waste tailings pile" in search of rare earth elements in a process that, considering North Korea's command economy, "does not have to be cost effective in the normal sense of things."

Rare earth elements such as gadolinium, neodymium, and yttrium can be used for a wide range of purposes, but they have become critical for modern military and electronic technologies. With international sanctions preventing North Korea from legally importing such material, the country needs to find domestic sources.

At Pakchon, as at Pyongsan, the uranium came from coal which was then processed to concentrate the uranium into yellowcake (a low-radiation powder of concentrated U-238, mostly in the form of triuranium octoxide) before it was shipped off to Yongbyon. The waste material was then deposited in a series of reservoirs.

Although it is unlikely that Pakchon has been engaged in uranium concentration activities since 2002, it seems that North Korea has found another use for the facility.

Tailings from uranium processing can contain concentrations of other valuable minerals like REEs, but their recovery still relies on expensive and complex chemical, physical, or electrical processes. 

China is the world's leading supplier (90%) of processed REEs, creating a dangerous bottleneck that could be cut off in the event of economic or military confrontation. That risk to the world's supply has seen countries scramble for alternative sources. 

Investing in technologies to make REE extraction economically viable from coal waste from power plants, other industrial sources, and even municipal waste is something multiple countries, including the United States, are engaged in. However, extracting the elements out of the waste requires a combination of physical and chemical processes.

As Pabian noted, North Korea isn't always bound by traditional economic considerations. Its drive for nuclear weapons has resulted in a crippled economy for decades and numerous sanctions, and so it has sought ways to evade and break sanctions by developing synthetic fuels from its own coal supplies to funding its activities through cryptocurrency theft. 

Reprocessing material from Pakchon may be yet another attempt to get the raw materials the country needs for its weapons and technology projects. It's worth noting that regardless of whatever policy directives are specific to the activities at Pakchon, North Korea has been going back to tailings and gangue piles at mining sites around the country to reprocess that material as well.

Besides the new reprocessing site, other changes at Pakchon should also be noted.

The main industrial center of Pakchon, 2021.

The main industrial center of Pakchon, 2024.

As is shown, two of the plant's support buildings had their roofs replaced between 2021 and 2024. These follow similar changes in previous years to other buildings, and reenforces the assessment that Pakchon is still being used for various activities, just not large-scale uranium processing. 

With the reprocessing of waste material in search of REEs or residual uranium, however, the use of these buildings as part of that reprocessing activity can't be ruled out. 

As for the possibility that the activity is related to environmental remediation efforts, I do not think that it is likely. North Korea has repeatedly demonstrated its low regard for environmental and health safety, including by allowing industrial waste to flow into the Ryesong River and by polluting the Taedong River (Pyongyang's main water source). So, it would be a rare instance of remediation and the only instance known of such efforts at a nuclear facility, if that is what is taking place at Pakchon. 

I believe that these developments at Pakchon, as well as the recently discovered construction activity at the suspected Kangson Uranium Enrichment Facility, should spur a review of all known nuclear facilities as well as key mining sites to see if there are other similar changes happening.

Regardless of if the developments at Pakchon are occurring in isolation or in tandem with other sites, it serves as a reminder that North Korea will use any and all sources of raw materials to further its technology programs and to earn foreign currency regardless of its international obligations. 

I would like to thank my current Patreon supporters who help make all of this possible: Alex Kleinman, Amanda Oh, Donald Pierce, Dylan D, Joe Bishop-Henchman, Jonathan J, Joel Parish, John Pike, Kbechs87, Russ Johnson, and Squadfan.

--Jacob Bogle, April 1, 2024

AccessDPRK.com
www.JacobBogle.com
Twitter.com/JacobBogle