That meant hard labour at farms, in mines and in factories that dotted Camp 14 — places where the sun rarely shone and beatings and torture were common. Those in Camp 14 were encouraged to inform on fellow prisoners to earn special rewards — an extra glob of porridge or a fleeting moment of trust from the guards.
Shin’s body told his tale of abuse. At twenty-three years old, he was short and slight, stunted from malnutrition; he weighed less than 54 kilograms. Food was scarce in Camp 14 — a few kernels of corn supplemented by rats Shin caught, cooked and ate. From years of heavy lifting, his arms were bowed. The middle finger on his right hand was partly missing, hacked off as punishment after Shin dropped a heavy sewing machine.
Shin’s back, buttocks and legs were covered with ropey scars and discoloured patches. When he was thirteen years old, his mother and older brother had attempted to escape. Shin overhead their whispered plans. He knew the often repeated rule of Camp 14: Any witness to an attempted escape who fails to report it will be shot immediately.
Obeying the camp rule, Shin told a night guard what he knew.
The next morning Shin was handcuffed, blindfolded and taken to an underground cell. “Your mother and brother were caught trying to escape,” he was told. “Were you aware of this fact? If you want to live, you should spit out the truth.”
Shin protested, explaining that he had informed a guard the night before. No one believed him. The night guard had apparently passed on the information, but had not given Shin credit for bringing it to his attention.
For days Shin was interrogated and tortured. Trussed with ropes, he was hung by his arms and legs from the ceiling, his body slung in a U with his bare back to the floor. A tub of burning charcoal was shoved beneath him. Shin was lowered. To hold him in place, the guards pierced his abdomen with a hook. The pain was excruciating.
Anger simmered inside him for the torture he had been forced to endure.
Eventually Shin passed out. He awoke in a cell, his back blistered and his ankles raw from the shackles that bound him. Months later, after his wounds had healed and guards had abandoned their questioning, he and his father were driven, handcuffed and blindfolded, to a site where they were forced to witness the execution of Shin’s mother and brother. Anger simmered inside Shin — anger at his father for the life he was forced to lead; anger at his mother and brother for the torture he had been forced to endure.
In March 2003 Shin was transferred to the camp’s garment factory. When sewing machines broke down, he fixed them. Then in October he was given another assignment. He was introduced to a new prisoner, Park Yong Chul. “Park needs to confess,” the factory superintendent told Shin.
Under the guise of showing Park how to fix sewing machines, Shin befriended him, hoping to find out about his past, his politics, his family — information that he could feed back to the superintendent who had promised Shin rewards in return. Park spoke openly. A well-educated and travelled man, he told Shin about life outside Camp 14. He talked about the wonders of technology — cars, computers, televisions, mobile phones. He shared lessons in geography. A place called China neighboured North Korea; South Korea and Japan were not far off either. People there were rich, Park said. They had jobs, money, food.
Shin savoured Park’s descriptions of steaming dishes and luscious desserts. In Camp 14 he was always hungry. He could scarcely imagine a world where plates were full and stomachs were never empty.
Although Shin was supposed to tell the factory superintendent what he knew, he kept the information secret. He dreamed of a different future. He imagined life beyond the prison fence. He thought about breaking free.
Shin told Park about his dream of freedom. It was a risky move. What if Park was an informer, planted in the sewing factory to spy on him? But Shin’s dream was stronger than his fear. To escape, he needed Park. Park knew the way to China. Park had connections outside Camp 14 — relatives and friends who would help them along the way.
Together the two men plotted their escape. From his days of gathering wood on the mountain slope, Shin knew about the electrified fence. To escape they would have to get near the fence, dodge guards who kept an armed watch, then find some way to climb over or squeeze through the fence without touching the electrified wires.
Shin and Park waited for an excuse to get close to the fence. In late December 2004 Shin learned that the factory was scheduled to close for two days in January. He, Park and other factory workers would be assigned other jobs — trimming trees and stacking wood on a mountain ridge on the eastern edge of the camp.
Opportunity called. Now or never, it seemed to say.
* * *
Early on the morning of January 2, 2005, Shin, Park and twenty-five other prisoners plodded around the snowy slope. Between swings of his axe, Shin watched the guards who patrolled the inside perimeter of the electrified fence. He observed their patterns. The guards walked in pairs. They carried automatic weapons. Between shifts there were lengthy gaps, times when guards were elsewhere.
Shin and Park waited until dusk, since darkness offered protection. Once they got over the fence, it would be difficult for guards to follow their footprints in the snow as they led down the steep slope, through forests and past rocky outcroppings.
At four o’clock the two edged close to the fence, trimming trees as they moved. They watched the guards and waited for a lull in coverage. No one seemed to notice them.
Park hesitated. “Can we try it some other time?”
The time was now, Shin felt. They might never have another chance. He grabbed Park’s hand. “Let’s run,” he said.
Partway to the fence, Shin slipped on the ice and fell. Park ran ahead. Strands of high-voltage barbed wire spaced about 30 centimetres apart and strung between tall poles stood between him and freedom. As long as he didn’t touch the wires, he’d pass through unharmed.
Park didn’t wait for Shin. He shoved his arms, head and shoulders between the lowest two strands of wire. Shin saw sparks and smelled the stench of burning flesh. Park twitched, then stopped moving. His body sagged on the wire, pulling it down, creating a small gap between the strands.
The fence had claimed his friend; it could just as easily kill him.
There wasn’t anything Shin could do for Park. In that instant he felt his plan dissolve. Park knew the way to China. Park spoke the languages Shin needed. Park had connections in different countries. Without Park, what chance did he have? The fence had claimed his friend; it could just as easily kill him. The guards would be returning soon. It was now or never. Shin had only seconds to decide.
Without looking back, he crawled over Park, hoping that his friend’s body would protect him from the electrified fence. Even with Park shielding him, Shin felt a surge of electricity along the soles of his feet. When he was almost through the gap, his lower legs slipped off Park and struck the bottom wire. A jolt of electricity shot through his body. “I almost fainted,” Shin said.
The smell of burning flesh was strong now — his or Park’s, Shin couldn’t tell. He pushed on, squirmed over Park and slid through the gap. For a few moments excitement replaced pain and fear. “I was overwhelmed by joy. The feeling of ecstasy to be out of the camp was beyond description.”
Shin barrelled down the slope, through heavy snow, past stands of trees. No shots followed him, no shouts of alarm. For two hours he ran, fuelled by adrenaline and drawn by freedom, going the only direction that seemed reasonable — downhill. When he reached a valley, Shin stopped. He felt something sticky trickling down his leg. He rolled up his pants. Blood oozed from wounds along his legs, damage caused by the jolt of electricity when he passed over Park.
For two hours he ran, fuelled by adrenaline and drawn by freedom.
Without Park to guide him, Shin had no idea where to go. He relied on instinct and deception, skills he had acquired at Camp 14. He broke into a farmer’s shed and stole a military uniform. Wearing it, he was no longer a runaway prisoner, just another poorly clothed, u
ndernourished North Korean soldier. As he travelled through towns, he ate scraps stolen from gardens or garbage bins. He slept wherever he could find shelter — in pigpens, haystacks, freight cars. He bartered and bargained and bribed. He exploited the goodness of others and found jobs, staying just long enough to earn money before moving on.
Although Shin was cold, hungry, in pain and still in North Korea, he felt strangely renewed. This is what freedom is like, he told himself. Life was whatever he wanted to make of it now.
Eventually Shin reached the Tumen River. On the other side lay China. Pretending to be a soldier, he bribed border guards with crackers, cigarettes and bags of sweets. Here the river was shallow and frozen, about 90 metres wide. Given the go-ahead by the guard, Shin walked across the fragile ice. Halfway to China the ice broke. Wet and cold, Shin crawled the rest of the way.
China was just the beginning for Shin. Within two years he was in South Korea, where he wrote Escape to the Outside World, his memoir about life in Camp 14. Two years later he was in southern California, adjusting to new languages and western ways. American journalist Blaine Harden picked up Shin’s story and wrote another account titled Escape from Camp 14.
Although his transition to a new life has not been easy, Shin is motivated by purpose. “If the world knows about the camp and if this improves the situation of people inside, this is the least I can do to repay the fellow prisoners who saved my life, kept me alive and helped me escape.”
This book is about people who faced danger, risk and impossible situations. Somehow they overcame enormous obstacles, conquering death, injury, imprisonment and even torture to emerge triumphant. How did they survive the impossible?
For many, the answer lies in the creative ways they tackled problems. The expression “thinking outside the box” is often used to describe situations like these, where clever thinking pierces a barrier that seems impenetrable, allowing a groundbreaking solution to seep through.
For some in this book, thinking outside the box took on an inventive form. When Chilean miners became trapped underground, for example, rescuers tackled the problem by creating new devices — miniature cameras to peer below, paloma to shuttle supplies, the Phoenix to bring the men to the surface. Others tinkered with objects and spaces, modifying them to serve a new purpose, such as the Houston engineers on the Apollo 13 mission.
For Saroo Munshi Khan and Asmaa Mahfouz, out-of-the-box thinking meant something else. Saroo put a fresh spin on Google Earth and used it unlike anyone had before. Asmaa channelled YouTube’s popularity and used it as a rallying cry for political change in Egypt. Taking something ordinary and using it in an unconventional way is one method of overcoming obstacles.
William Kamkwamba demonstrated another, borrowing an idea from a science book, adjusting it to suit his own situation. Borrowing an idea helped rescuers in Peru to save 72 hostages, too.
For people like Henry “Box” Brown, the source of inspiration is more mysterious. Brown wrote that “the idea just flashed into my mind.” In some situations, solutions seem to leap out of thin air without will or effort.
Experience and knowledge counted immensely in some cases. Both of Juliane Koepcke’s parents were zoologists, and she knew the jungle better than most — enough to follow a stream to civilization, enough to recognize the call of a hoatzin and know that she was near open water. Pilot Chesley Sullenberger, with thousands of hours of flight time to his credit, knew that the Hudson River was his only option. In these and other cases, experience tipped the scales, giving people choices not available to others. The wonder is that with danger clawing at their thoughts, they were able to stifle panic and recall what they knew in order to use it so effectively.
Thinking outside the box took different forms in this book, and words like invent, modify, adapt, create and insight have been used to describe its many shades. But inventive thinking doesn’t explain everything. To conquer the impossible, it takes more than just a clever solution. It takes strength of character, too. Qualities like Eric Le Marque’s never-give-up attitude, Corrie ten Boom’s courage, the Chilean miners’ all-for-one spirit. Determination, persistence, compassion, cooperation, optimism — these and other qualities kept hope alive and the goal firmly in sight. When creative solutions did appear, they flourished, anchored in fertile soil and nurtured by do-or-die attitudes.
Perhaps that is a lesson we can draw from such stories. In times of trouble, when the impossible rears its ugly head and all seems lost, qualities that reside inside us — those characteristics that define who we are and make us strong — can count as much as, and sometimes even more than, the out-of-the-box solutions we might create.
Fearless people populate this book. From each story I drew inspiration, awed by the boldness and strength of their actions. Without these individuals’ daring and often creative responses to a challenge, there would be no book to write. First and foremost in my list of gratitudes, I offer them my thanks.
To bring any book to completion takes teamwork, and this book is no exception. I am indebted to a number of dedicated individuals affiliated with Scholastic Canada who stood behind this book, generously lending their talents to shape its final form. My sincerest thanks to Senior Editor Sandy Bogart Johnston, who cultivated the idea, sharpened its focus and fine-tuned the content. Thanks as well to Carrie Gleason for skilfully editing the manuscript, bringing fresh perspectives to the material and asking that all important question: Why? I am also grateful to others on the Scholastic team who contributed to this venture, in particular Publisher Diane Kerner and Art Director Aldo Fierro.
Lastly, thank you to family, friends, fellow writers and ardent readers who, in ways large and small, encourage and inspire. A special nod to my home team and especially my wife, Jo, who cheers me on daily, steering me past obstacles and over hurdles — my deepest thanks.
Franklin, Jonathan. (2011). The 33: The Ultimate Account of the Chilean Miners’ Dramatic Rescue. Transworld Publishers Limited.
Goldfield, David J. (2007). The Ambassador’s Word: Hostage Crisis in Peru, 1996-1997. Penumbra Press.
Harden, Blaine. (2012). Escape from Camp 14: One man’s remarkable odyssey from North Korea to freedom in the West. Viking.
Kamkwamba, William. (2009). The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Creating Currents of Electricity & Hope. William Morrow.
Koepcke, Juliane. (2011). When I Fell From the Sky. Titletown Publishing.
Lovell, James & Kluger, Jeffrey. (1994). Lost Moon: The Perilous Voyage of Apollo 13. Houghton Mifflin.
O’Shei, Tim. (2007). Stranded in the Snow! Eric LeMarque’s Story of Survival. Capstone Press.
Philpot, Oliver. (1952). Stolen Journey. Dutton.
Sullenberger, Chesley. (2009). Highest Duty: My Search For What Really Matters. William Morrow.
ten Boom, Corrie with Elizabeth & John Sherrill. (1984). The Hiding Place. Bantam Books, Reprint Edition
Williams, Eric. (1985, revised). The Wooden Horse. Penguin.
Former science teacher Larry Verstraete loves finding ways to get kids interested in science. Larry is the author of many award-winning non-fiction titles, including Case Files: 40 Murders and Mysteries Solved by Science and At the Edge: Daring Acts in Desperate Times. He lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba. His website is www.larryverstraete.com.
Check out these other books by Larry Verstraete, available in print.
At the Edge: Daring Acts in Desperate Times
ISBN 978-0-545-99790-4
Paperback, 160 pages
When people face crisis situations, they must make critical life-or-death decisions. Stay or flee? Resist or submit? Help another or save yourself?
More than twenty incredible true stories show people facing wrenching choices, and the decision that had to be made, at the edge …
* A man sees a stranger fall into the path of an oncoming train. Does he try to help, or stay safe and let another die?
* A tsunami bears down on a woman and two children. She can hold only one. W
hich child does she let go?
* A young man sees his friend being attacked by a polar bear. If he tries to help, he could be mauled. What action should he take?
Case Files: 40 Murders and Mysteries Solved by Science
ISBN 978-1-4431-0000-7
Paperback, 160 pages
A killer had been caught, convicted and sentenced, the case closed, all in 114 days. No one suspected — least of all the boy on death row — that it would take almost 50 years for a tiny piece of scientific evidence to answer the question: Was he really the murderer?
40 amazing stories of how scientists solve crimes, reveal identities, untangle evidence and discover the truth.
Lost Treasures: True Stories of Discovery
ISBN 978-0-439-95739-7
Paperback, 192 pages
Imagine finding
* a sunken fortune in gleaming coins
* a single stamp worth over a million dollars
* Nova Scotia’s elusive Oak Island Treasure
* the world’s largest gold nugget
* a painting worth millions
These treasure hunters did just that! Through fierce determination — or sometimes just plain luck — they alone found what many others had missed.
Over 80 real-life stories of amazing finds, with more than 30 photographs and illustrations!
Front and back cover: © Shutterstock/Alex Emanuel Koch.
p. 4: © Heather Jones/Dreamstime.com 505594; p. 8: © AP Photo/Ric Francis 4030305773; p. 13: © AP Photo/Jerome Delay, File 3040908319; p. 18: © iStockphoto.com/JohnnyLye 1771644; p. 22: © AP Photo 720319027; p. 27: © Songquan Deng/Dreamstime.com 16311937; p. 29: © AP Photo/Steven Day 90115044365; p. 34: Jerome L. Lilienthal Collection/National Archives and Records Administration 559369/200-SFF-52; p. 37: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of Harry Lore 08767; p. 41: © James Burns, RCA/Apollo Lunar Surface Journal; p. 44: Courtesy of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration/Scan by Eric Jones AP13-S70-35013HR; p. 45: Courtesy of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration/Scan by John Fongheiser AS13-62-8929HR; p. 51: © Jonathan Lingel/Dreamstime.com 17957853; p. 55: © AP Photo/National Science Foundation, Chris Martin 1042402210; p. 58: © Chile’s Presidency/AP/dapd 10120803496; p.64: © iStockphoto.com/erlucho 14697013; p. 68: Image ISD01-2014, National Defense, 2001. Reproduced with the permission of the Minister of Public Works and Government Services. Canada, 2013; p. 75: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of Ruth Sherman 45170; p. 77: © Corrie ten Boom House, Harlem, Netherlands, ch4-37right; p. 84: Fotor/Tom Rielly; p. 87: © Mohamed Hanno/Dreamstime.com 19280071; p. 96: Rapid Deployment Craft © and courtesy of Oceanid Water Rescue Craft; p. 98: © Jean Levac / Ottawa Citizen. Reprinted by permission. OTT0611; p. 101: © Vadim Kulikov/Dreamstime.com 29630488; p. 105: © Saroo Brierley/privat/dapd; p. 115: © AP Photo/Fernando Llano 97042304919; p. 116: © AP Photo 97042505836; p. 118: Courtesy of the Library of Congress, LC-USZC4-4659 (color film copy transparency) 3g04659u; p. 121: Courtesy of the Library of Congress, LC-USZ62-2582 (b&w film copy neg.) 3a06254u; p. 128: Simon Kwan; p. 131: © iStockphoto.com/ Roberto A Sanchez 5033021; p. 136: © AP-Photo/Kreusch 610822020; p. 141: © Chris Van Lennep/Dreamstime.com 26619957; p. 144: © AP Photo/Wong Maye-E 263089925150.
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