Hockey much-needed relaxation in Korea
 
Thane Burnett
Toronto Sun November 11, 2003

When Korean War vet Tom Somers tries to explain to his grandchildren-especially a 14-year-old grandson-what surviving on a battlefield is like, one of the places he returns to is the blue line. For Somers, a Hamilton veteran and more than 26,791 Canadians who served in Korea in the three years before the armistice was signed in Panmunjom, Korea, a half century ago, hockey was one of the things they fought for.
 
The image of Canadian soldiers taking to a frozen river in a war zone - duking it out in inter-regimental hockey tournaments - is not how most of us remember our veterans. But it may, suggests Somers and his fellow Korean War vets, allow those of us who have never put our lives on the line for our country to better understand the sacrifice of those who did.
 
To put ourselves in their skates. Since before World War II, Canadian warriors played hockey as a respite from battle. In Korea, those games were held near the front lines at the “Imjin Gardens” – named in honour of Toronto’s hockey shrine. That bit of home – when more than 500 Canadians fighting in Korea would never see Canada again – were a Godsend, recalls Somers.
 
“Those games were more important (to us) than the (NHL) playoffs are today,” he says. “It gave us a moment of relaxation.” Among Somers and his peers, the games of Imjin Gardens are legend – as heralded, in some ways, as the last time the Leafs won the cup.
 
It was an arena, even on a frozen Korean river, where Canadians felt at ease. “Soldiers have always played games as a way to relax – soccer, water polo,” says Somers, president of the Korean Veterans Association. “For us, it seemed natural that it be hockey.”
 
Consider the lines they stood on. On one side, the Canadian troops, under a United Nations flag, faced off against 180,000 troops massed behind the North Korean front lines. For three years, our soldiers were capturing, then recapturing the same bit of ground in a tug of war. They did it while trudging through deep snow, mines and bombardment from the enemy.
 
Paul Rochon, a veteran from London, was only 17 years old when he faced that. It would take officials eight months to realize he was underage and send him packing back to the safety of the home front. It was Imjin Gardens which helped him make it through.
 
The static front line he found himself fighting on was near the Imjin River, which – like 90% of soldiers who suffered from frostbite – froze during winter. “The Imjin Gardens” sign put up there was complete with a maple leaf and Canada insignia in the upper right-hand corner. It started with a ring of sandbags, which gave way to an actual boarded arena.
 
And like any rink here in Canada, it had a canteen which served hot coffee and doughnuts and even had heated dressing rooms. Hundreds of men would watch the games – trucked in from the front lines. “Watching hockey there meant a hot shower and hot coffee and a bit of home,” says Rochon, who this morning, inside a London school, will use the image of opposing forces on a rink to explain what the Korean War was like for Canadians who fought there.
 
Those old replays won’t be shown on TSN, but there must have been some great plays. Somers’ regimental team included a Canadian Olympian and a handful of professional players. After Korea, Rochon went on to travel around the world, working for the United Nations.
 
“Those games were very special to us all – more than just hockey,” Rochon recalls. His travels meant that he didn’t follow hockey. He still doesn’t, although he dropped the puck at an American Hockey League game last Friday night at Copps Coliseum. But then, after you’ve watched hockey played in a war zone, everything else is just a game.