Winter Enemies: Snow

When our summer enemies finally disappear and the short fall season passes, soldiers begin preparing for a new threat—snow clearing. Compared to mowing grass in the summer, snow almost feels like a kinder opponent. At least, that’s what I used to think.

In summer, grass and resilient plants grow everywhere, all the time. No matter how much you mow, they grow back the next day, demanding nonstop work. Even worse, some of the areas we have to mow are rough and uneven, which increases the risk of injury. Add sharp thorns, tough leaves, and endless bug bites, and long sleeves and thick pants become mandatory. Those layers trap heat inside, making heat exhaustion and dehydration constant threats.

Snow, on the other hand, doesn’t fall throughout the entire winter. In some regions of Korea it might feel that way, but generally, snow concentrates between late December and early January. Outside of that short period, most snowfall is relatively manageable. Winter uniforms also allow more flexibility—you can layer up without the same restrictions summer gear imposes.

And yet, during that three-to-four-week window of heavy snowfall, some soldiers honestly say they would rather mow grass in midsummer than clear snow in winter. Here’s why.

Snow is far more dangerous than it looks. When heavy snow hits, icy roads cause frequent accidents, movement becomes limited, and even electricity and communication can be disrupted. In frontline units, visibility itself becomes a serious issue. Because of this, most outdoor activities are strictly regulated during snowstorms. The military has learned—often the hard way—that unnecessary movement during heavy snow leads to severe accidents.

What makes snow clearing especially exhausting isn’t just the amount of snow, but the type of snow. During peak snowfall, it feels like we’re tiny ants while a giant pours tons of flour over us. No matter how much we shovel, the progress feels insignificant.

Most people don’t think much about different kinds of snow, but when you’re the one removing it, the differences become painfully clear. Snow changes depending on temperature, humidity, and how air layers are stacked in the atmosphere. In colder conditions, snow stays light and powdery. Near freezing temperatures, it becomes wet, heavy, and sticky. High humidity creates dense snow that clings to everything, while low humidity produces dry snow that blows right back into your face.

Some snow is easy to shovel. Other types feel like lifting wet cement. And then there’s sleet—snow mixed with rain—which makes shoveling almost pointless and turns roads into ice rinks. That’s when even salt doesn’t help much.

Snow removal operations usually begin after the storm passes. Sometimes, just getting out of the building is a challenge—the snow can pile up to nearly half the height of the door. Most of the time, our main tools are simple: shovels and salt. Officers may have access to more efficient equipment like blowers, but for most soldiers, it’s just manpower against gravity.

Cold is another enemy. Layering helps, and winter gear is designed well, but no matter how much you wear, the cold always finds a way in. Your hands go numb, your breath freezes in the air, and time seems to slow down with every scoop of snow.

Of course, there are machines we love—snowplows and calcium chloride. When they appear, morale instantly improves. They don’t eliminate the work, but they remind us that we’re not completely alone in this fight.

Snow clearing in the military isn’t just about removing snow. It’s about patience, endurance, and accepting that sometimes, no matter how hard you work, nature always has the upper hand—at least for a while.