① Not the Song of the Sword, but the Song of the Bow

When we picture Admiral Yi Sun-sin, most of us think first of his famous sword, or the statue standing tall in Gwanghwamun Square with a long sword at his side. The title of Kim Hoon's well-known novel about him is even The Song of the Sword. But look closely at the seven years recorded in the Nanjung Ilgi, the Admiral's own war diary, and what was actually in his hand, again and again, was not a sword — it was a bow. For Admiral Yi, archery was more than martial training; it was woven into the very fabric of his life across all seven years of the war.

Not the Song of the Sword, but the Song of the Bow

Comparing Joseon's Bow and Japan's Musket

The Admiral devoted himself so completely to archery because he understood, better than anyone, the strengths and weaknesses of Joseon's weaponry. The Japanese musket, the arquebus, is often credited as the decisive weapon of the Imjin War — but in rate of fire, the Joseon bow actually outmatched it. Loading a musket meant packing gunpowder and ramming a ball down the barrel, a slow process that limited even a skilled Japanese soldier to one or two shots a minute.

The Joseon composite bow, by contrast, needed only a drawn string — a skilled archer could loose six to ten arrows in the same minute.

The Joseon bow also outranged the musket, with an effective range of two to three hundred meters. Within fifty meters, of course, the musket's terrifying penetrating power became a real threat, and Japan's early dominance on land came from combining musket fire with their close-quarters swordsmanship. The core of Admiral Yi's strategy at sea was to exploit exactly this gap: never let the enemy close to musket range or scramble aboard his ships — in other words, a relentless strategy of long-range engagement.

The Core Tactic Behind Admiral Yi's Undefeated Record

First, from a distance, the Admiral used the massive cannon mounted on his panokseon — the Cheon, Ji, Hyeon, and Hwang guns — to smash enemy ships before they could close in. Then, whenever the enemy tried to approach during a reload or through a cannon's blind spot, he unleashed a storm of long-range, rapid-fire arrows. His archers kept the Japanese too pinned down even to reload their muskets. Cannon to break the ships, and arrows to seal off any approach by musket — this combination was the real substance behind Admiral Yi's unbroken record at sea. And this is precisely why, even in peacetime at his home base, he never let a day pass without relentless archery practice.

The Nanjung Ilgi: Rigorous Self-Discipline, Proven by the Numbers

The Nanjung Ilgi records about 270 days on which the Admiral practiced archery. Set against the full seven years of war, 270 days might not sound like much. But there are hidden numbers here worth working through. The Imjin and Jeongyu Wars lasted roughly 2,500 days in total. Of those, around 910 days are missing from the diary — lost to history or simply never recorded. That leaves roughly 1,590 days for which the diary actually survives. Once you subtract, from those surviving days, every day he could not possibly have picked up a bow, the picture changes completely.

First, around 240 days were spent in actual combat or on naval expeditions.

Second, around 380 days were lost to severe weather — heavy rain, bitter cold.

Third, around 150 days he was too unwell to move, suffering from bloody vomiting, severe diarrhea, and other ailments.

Fourth, around 120 days were spent under arrest in Hanyang or walking the road as a disgraced soldier stripped of command.

And fifth, around 430 days were consumed entirely by official duties — entertaining court envoys, attending meetings, or traveling.

Add up these five unavoidable categories, and you get roughly 1,320 days.

Subtract those 1,320 days, on which archery simply wasn't possible, from the 1,590 surviving diary days, and you arrive at the same number: only about 270 days on which the Admiral was actually free to practice.

In other words, on every single day his body allowed him to draw a bowstring, without exception, he picked up his bow.

In peacetime he inspected his troops daily, held archery contests, and handed out rewards and punishments accordingly. Even on nights when he drank alone, weighed down by private grief, he still closed the day with archery practice. There were days in his fifties when he loosed 150 arrows in a single day — for the Admiral, archery was a fierce discipline of composure, a way of pulling himself back together and narrowing his focus down to a single target.

The Truth of His Final Moment at Noryang, and His Life as a Soldier

Understanding this about the Admiral's whole approach to life, we should look again at the moment of his final battle, at Noryang. Some tell a dramatic story: that on the dark waters of Noryang, the Admiral deliberately removed his armor, and was struck by a bullet while beating the war drum. But I don't believe this is who Admiral Yi really was. A man who once said "Life and death are Heaven's will" would hardly have chosen, deliberately, to give up his own life.

I believe that to his final moment, Admiral Yi held the bow he had spent his whole life mastering, loosing arrows across the dark waters of Noryang and killing the enemy with them. Only when his arrows finally ran out, surrounded on every side by enemy forces, would he at last have picked up the drumsticks to rally his men. A man who spent his entire life as a soldier, disciplining his body and always preparing for what might come — it only makes sense that in his final battle, too, he fought fiercely until his arrows were spent, and met his fate only then.

Why We Should Remember Admiral Yi as "the Song of the Bow"

Admiral Yi Sun-sin's greatness does not lie in a finely honed sword.

Leaving behind the Ming forces who wanted to open an escape route for the retreating Japanese, and a Joseon court that only watched and deferred, the Admiral chose the waters of Noryang himself, for no reason but to console the grieving spirits of a million abandoned people. The bowstring he drew, day after day, until he offered himself as the final sacrifice for his people — that is the true face of Admiral Yi Sun-sin.

The Nanjung Ilgi records about 270 days on which the Admiral practiced archery — meaning that across seven years of war, he practiced without fail on every single day his circumstances allowed. He used archery strategically to win battles, and trained his own body relentlessly to make that possible.

Today, if you visit Gwanghwamun, you'll find a statue of Admiral Yi holding a great sword in his right hand. Even granting, for argument's sake, that the Admiral did carry a sword, he would have held it in his left hand.

Every time I see that statue, I sometimes feel, for a moment, as if I'm looking at someone other than Admiral Yi Sun-sin.

I look forward to the day the statue at Gwanghwamun is remade to show his true form: drawing a taut bowstring.

👉 Next post: ② Why Admiral Yi Stopped Performing the Royal Bowing Ritual

— Momcheolhak