Visiting memorials to past wars is an important part of any trip to a new country. But  all the solemnity you can summon never seems enough in the face of the enormity of these events.  The pattern of cruelties and grief is, sadly, all too widespread. The tragedy of the two Koreas is unique, though. In other parts of the world (if they're lucky) the hot blood of war has cooled and the warring parties have buried hatchets and picked up plough shares and pens and rebuilt their societies. The DMZ is a scar running the length of the country and has a WW II-era feel about it. Barbed wire is strung up everywhere and young soldiers look out from under combat helmets with steel-eyed purpose. They peer out from armoured vehicles and hold rifles out in front of them ready to shoot. The rusted artifacts of the original conflict are displayed under clear glass but they feel like they are surrounded by an impenetrable fog. Beneath this shattered helmet was a soldier whose aspirations evaporated no doubt way before his time. Now multiply that by a million and we are not equipped to fully grasp what that means. Not to mention the millions more still held hostage by the war that hasn't been allowed to end. All we can do to honour these victims is to pay them heed, but maybe more importantly, live in a way that ensures that such tragedies never recur.