Liu Song, an 18‐year‐old, is transferring from a Korean high school in Osaka to one in Pyongyang. “I have friends who have seen the South, and they tell me that so long as you have money you can live there,” he said. “But I'm a worker, and I want to live in a place where I can give everything I have to building up my country.

“For me, that means the Republic. As first, my father didn't want me to go. But now he says that he has given his son to Kim 11 Sung, and that's the best thing he has done in his life.”

A Sense of Not Belonging

For Mrs. Kim, or Liu Song, or 38‐year‐old Park Su Yon, repatriation to North Korea means the opportunity to start a new life, to leave behind the discrimination and the heartaches and the sense of not belonging that almost all Koreans in Japan have experienced. Mrs. Kim was brought to Japan in 1926, when she was 13 years old. She was one of 50 girls hired to work in a silk‐spinning factory for room, board and 15 sen (71/2 cents) a month.

Song's father came to Japan when he was 15 and has been working as a plumber ever since. Song was born in Kitsuki, on the Japan Sea coast, and came to Osaka so that he could attend a Korean high school.

Mr. Park was born in South Korea and came to Japan with his parents at the age of 7. His father made charcoal in the mountains behind Hiroshima; as a boy, Mr. Park trudged 12 miles to school.

Repatriation a One‐Way Trip

One day, as he and some other Korean children were on their way home, he relates, an army truck passed them. They hailed it and asked for a lift. “You Korean kids!” the driver yelled. “You don't deserve ride—you should be tied up and dragged along.” He got out of the truck and slapped them, Mr. Park says.

The sense of discrimination and of exploitation by the Japanese is intensified, in the case of these who support Pyongyang, by the Japanese policy of not permitting repatriates to North Korea to return to Japan, whereas those who go to South Korea may come and go freely.