June 1944 to August 1945

CHAPTER III

CONTACT WITH CHUNGKING

NOVEMBER passed without incident, and with December came the hard North China winter. We were provided with thick cotton-padded jacket and trousers of locally woven cotton cloth, and early in December we each received a long black padded gown which covered us from neck to ankles, but in spite of this we were frozen. Every hour or so that we were not in bed, we had either to go for a brisk walk or to take a ten-minute run around the courtyard to warm up. A small open stove, made out of a kerosene tin lined with clay, gave off a most nauseating gas and very little heat. We both developed painful chilblains which we cured eventually by long immersion in a strong solution of hot water and salt an old Russian custom which Arthur fortunately remembered.

Never shall I forget the morning on which we had our first sight of American bombers flying in perfect formation north-east towards Manchukuo. We had heard them occasionally in the summer but had never actually seen them. Now they were passing over fairly regularly and with their passage over our territory we gained considerable prestige. The people could actually see for themselves the Allied assistance of which they had read so much in the newspapers.

December the 12th had been a miserably cold day with a strong wind, which by evening had developed into a blizzard. Arthur had already gone to bed and I was on the point of doing the same when I heard a plane; it seemed to pass directly over the house heading north. In a few moments it was back again, this time to the east. It seemed to be circling, as the throb of the engine again became audible. Going to the door I had a look outside; snow was still falling, although not so heavily. It seemed as though the plane must have lost its bearings, and with the hope that, if it was a Jap, he would come to grief, I turned in.

Before breakfast the next morning a very excited orderly from the Chief of the Entertaining Department arrived: "The Chief for the Entertaining of our honoured guests hopes that you have slept well and requests that you come over to see him immediately, so that arrangements can he made for your return to your home country by aeroplane."

"The guy's nuts, ― aeroplane? What aeroplane? Arthur asked.

"The aeroplane that arrived last night to take you to your honourable country," replied the orderly.

"Well, I'm damned! Come on, let's go, it may have something to do with the plane I heard last night. It probably crashed."

The Chief of the Entertaining Department was waiting for us at the entrance to his office, and, with alternate hand-shakes and hearty slaps on the back, ushered us into his room.

"Well, at last it has come. Owing entirely to your efforts we have established contact with our British and American allies. Think what this will mean to the prestige of the Fifteenth."

"What has come?

"The aeroplane."

"Well, where is it?

"It's gone back again. Probably in Chungking again by now."

"Why were we not told about it before? One of us might have gone back to Chungking."

"But it didn't land."

"Well, for God's sake tell us what did happen!

"All I know is that a plane came last night and dropped by `descending umbrella' the two messengers whom we sent to Chungking, `Prosperous Year' Li and Mr. Chen, and twelve large packages of supplies. Li and Chen are at Headquarters, and search-parties have been sent out to find the packages. I have sent a messenger to Headquarters to bring us the latest news and to send a couple of horses for you In the meantime, let us have a feast to celebrate."

During the course of the morning information drifted down to us. Li was unhurt, but Chen had been badly dragged and was suffering from severe bruises and frostbite. Seven of the packages had been located. Some of them had been carried by the wind into the neighbouring area to the east. This was unfortunate, but representatives had already been sent, taking with them one hundred thousand dollars as a gift for the co-operation they expected to receive in locating the packages.

During the late afternoon two bodyguards rode in, leading ponies to take us back to Headquarters. We galloped practically all the way.

On arrival we were met by Yu-min and others of the Headquarters staff. They informed us that they had now located all but two of the packages and hoped they would all be in by the morning. We went into Yu-min's room and sat around on the heated k'ang. A large charcoal brazier was brought in, and a bottle of wine was produced, with a few snacks to eat whilst dinner was being prepared.

Presently "Prosperous Year" Li came in, looking very well, and none the worse for his experiences, and very proud of this mission which he had so successfully completed. He gave us a large package of letters that he personally had carried from Chungking, the first real contact we had had with the outside world for twenty months.

Yu-min was very happy that night and, much to every-one's surprise, drank several cups of wine. After dinner he left us, explaining that he had much work to do and no doubt we had a lot of questions to ask "Prosperous Year".

"How did you find things in Chungking?" we asked.

"I have never been in such a crowded city before. Why, every street is as crowded as the main street of this village on market day. Living is very expensive but it is possible to buy luxury goods. But many of the people are practically starving, the salaries of the small officials, clerks and teachers, are such that it is difficult for them to live. On the other hand, higher government officials are making fortunes, as are some of the bigger merchants. The soldiers are poorly fed and equipped: our soldiers here eat better than the National Government troops. Many of the military and civil officials are concerned more with their private affairs than with the welfare of the people or the prosecution of the war effort. To be honest, I was much disappointed."

"And what is the attitude towards guerrillas — such as our unit, for instance?

"Prosperous Year" laughed. "Generally speaking, I should say that we are considered as undisciplined hordes, little better than bandits. The people in the rear have no conception of the life that we lead here behind the enemy lines or the part that we are playing in the resistance war. It is disheartening and I fear we shall get little assistance unless it is from our American allies, who have the final say in many affairs. They may appear to us to be crude and lacking in manners from the Chinese standpoint --- interested only in drink and women -- but they are remarkably efficient and get done in a few hours what would take us weeks or even months, if it ever got done at all. They are a beneficial influence on our militarists and are forcing them to make improvements and reforms long overdue, and they are training our forces in methods of fighting hitherto unknown in China. With their continued assistance China may one day expect to take her place among the great nations of the world; alone we cannot."

We were delighted to hear that Billy Christian was back in Chungking, a Colonel with the Office of Strategic Services. "Prosperous Year" was full of admiration for the time and energy that Billy had devoted to helping him. It seems doubtful whether we should have got very far without his assistance. It was early in the morning before we stretched out on the k'ang and went to sleep.

"Prosperous Year" had given us a long account of his journey to Chungking. They had been delayed at the outset by Mr. Chen, who fell sick at the railway junction of Hsuchow and were again delayed at the temporary seat of the exiled Shantung Government at Fuyang, awaiting other members to join the party. En route they had several encounters with the Communists and had to seek the assistance of puppet troops to escort them. Forced to walk a great part of the way owing to lack of transport, they were occasionally able to hire a wheelbarrow or a donkey. Chen did not stand the trip well and "Prosperous Year" eventually hired a mule litter for him and the baggage. The going was hard; roads gave way to goat-paths as they got into the hilly country. It rained incessantly and at the end of each day's march their clothes were wet through. More often than not the only change they had was also wet. Of one thing Li was quite certain: never again would he travel with Mr. Chen. In his opinion he ought to be shot.

Mr. Chen had brought enough heroin to last him for the trip and, sustained by this, he managed to get along reasonably well by donkey and by litter until they came to a river in flood. Here a small ferry boat was operated for foot passengers. "Prosperous Year" and Chen crossed by ferry, leaving the mule litter to cross by the ford. Stripping off his clothes, the muleteer coaxed the leading mule of the litter into the swiftly flowing current. As they approached the centre of the river the water rose to the level of the shafts. Realising that he could not turn and go back, the muleteer struggled to keep the animals on their feet and at the same time was gradually swept clown the river. The leading animal stumbled and in a moment both man and beast were swept off their feet by the current. In the struggle, the leading mule broke loose from his harness and, again finding his feet, reached the bank on the opposite shore. The litter and the remaining mule parted company, and by the time the animal had got across, the litter was well on its way floating downstream.

During this performance Chen had become more and more agitated, shouting advice alternately with curses to the muleteer. When the second mule broke loose from the litter, Chen, fully clothed, waded into the river in a vain attempt to reach it. Of slight build and of little strength, he soon became exhausted and was swept off his feet. Both "Prosperous Year" and the ferryman followed down the river-bank and, quickly running to a point below Chen, they joined hands for support and, wading into the swiftly flowing waters, succeeded in grabbing the struggling wretch as he passed. Between them they half carried, half dragged him to the ferryman's hut, stretched him out on the brick bed and gave him some hot tea.

In the meantime the litter, minus the bedding and pillows, had drifted to the river-bank some two miles downstream. As Chen began to take an interest in life again, his only concern was for the litter. On hearing that it had been retrieved, it was all "Prosperous Year" and the ferryman could do to keep him from struggling to his feet. He must go to it. By dint of force and persuasion they managed to keep him on the bed, knowing full well he was in no state to walk a couple of miles. Late that afternoon the litter arrived. In a moment Chen was up and, rushing to it, scrambled inside. Feverishly he searched again and again the over-lapping seam formed by the join of the two straw mats that made the roof. Dazed and shaking, he crawled out, muttering to himself, "It's lost, it's lost," and stretching himself out once again on the brick bed, he burst into tears.

Eventually "Prosperous Year" extracted from him the information that his precious stock of heroin for the journey, purchased in Hsuchow, had been wrapped in oiled silk and secreted in the hood of the litter. Without this he was worse than useless. That afternoon he refused to move and the others had no recourse but to spend the night at the ferry. Next morning, pale and shaking, he was eventually installed in the litter. Fortunately the worst of the journey was over, but during the next three weeks until they arrived at Chung-king, «Prosperous Year», alternately bullying and humouring him, went through hell, though by the time they reached Chungking, Chen seemed definitely to have improved. In Chungking he was kept so short of funds that it was impossible for him to buy any more of the drug.

On arrival in Chungking «Prosperous Year» handed our reports to Li Tze-lien, who had been there for over a year as the representative of the Fifteenth, and together they called on the American Embassy to deliver these letters. A friend of ours in the Embassy introduced them to Billy, and "Prosperous Year" was called upon to make reports on the latest situation in Shantung for the O.S.S. Little notice was taken of Chen, who spent most of his time in the hotel or visiting friends.

As an ex-internee from Weihsien, Billy Christian was naturally particularly interested in the scheme and was determined to do what he could to help. He succeeded in getting his own organisation interested and then commenced to work on the network of officialdom that covered Chung-king. He approached the American and British Embassies, but although both were definitely interested in the project, it was felt that nothing could be done officially; the British, however, gave two and a half million dollars to be used for relief purposes amongst the internees. Getting no financial support from the American Embassy, Billy managed to wheedle half a million dollars from the American Air Ground Aid Service. The Red Cross agreed to donate the medical supplies and the O.S.S. a radio transmitter and receiver.

The most difficult part of the job was to persuade the Army to produce a plane. Working through Colonel Joe Dickey of G.2, Billy was introduced to General Chennault of "Flying Tigers" fame, who, convinced of the importance of the scheme, finally agreed to loan a B—24 for the job. It was a brand-new plane which had just come over the "Hump” and was worth a million U.S. dollars. Originally it had been intended to start back from Kunming, but it was later considered that security at that point was had and Chengtu was in the end chosen as the base for the take-off.

The supplies had already been flown to Chengtu, but when Billy arrived he found that some colonel, on inspecting the warehouse, had asked what these packages were and to whom they were consigned. Naturally, being a top secret, they were not labelled "For Weihsien Concentration Camp", and as the lieutenant in charge could not give a sufficiently lucid explanation for the presence of these much-needed medical supplies, the colonel ordered their immediate transfer for the use of a Chinese hospital in Sian. With the expedition scheduled to start and the most valuable part of the supplies gone, there was some possibility of the whole affair falling through unless the medical supplies could be replaced immediately. The plane could not be held at our disposal indefinitely.

But Billy, having pushed the plan to this stage, was determined to see it through to a successful conclusion. With the help of Captain Benny, of Chengtu, he succeeded in obtaining a further supply of vaccines and inoculations, flown over the "Hump" from India direct to Chengtu in one day. Thirty Chinese girls worked all night packing the medicines and by the following day everything was ready.

But once again there was delay. It was considered unwise to declare the contents and destination of the plane and they were held up with clearance difficulties on the "weight and balance" declaration which had to be completed before they could leave. Explanations were radioed here and there and at four-thirty the following afternoon, 12th December, the plane cleared the field. Having seen it off, Billy retired to the mess for a well-earned drink and a nap.

The B-24 was under the command of Hightower, with Etheridge as co-pilot and Cunningham as radar operator, who, with three sergeants and a corporal, made up the crew. An Army observer accompanied them, together with "Prosperous Year" and Mr. Chen. Passing over Sian, the capital of Shansi, they made for Tsinan at around 20,000 feet and from there flew north-east to the Gulf of Chili, where they located the common estuary of the Wei and Chiao rivers. From this point they flew directly south for thirty miles and dropped "Prosperous Year", Chen and the packages at 11.30 P.m. The round trip was about 2100 miles ― the plane was loaded to capacity with 3360 gallons of gas.

It was not until the end of the war that we learned the full details of the return trip. Billy had spent the night at the airfield anxiously awaiting news; radio advice had been received of the successful dropping, and they were reported on the return flight. At six-thirty Billy was awakened and advised that the plane was coming in. There was thick fog but they hoped to find an opening in which to land — the fog did not lift, however, and as the field was littered with B–29s ready to take off on a bombing expedition, they could not risk a chance of damaging one. The fog failed to clear and eventually, with a shortage of gas, they signalled that they were abandoning ship: that was the last heard of them. The course was set for a nearby mountain and the crew jumped. No sooner had they done so than the starboard motor gave out and the plane commenced to circle, endangering the parachutists. It continued its circling flight and within less than fifteen minutes had crashed into a Chinese village, killing eight people. The crew landed in safety with nothing worse than a couple of broken ankles.

"Prosperous Year" told us that when they arrived at the target it had been agreed that Chen should jump first. He was given final instructions and the trap-door was opened, but at the crucial moment his courage failed him. He was pushed out.

«Prosperous Year», bidding goodbye to the occupants of the plane, jumped out after him. Clutching his release cord as the wind and the noise of the plane filled his cars, he counted five, pulled the cord and nothing happened. His heart seemed to stop; frantically he tugged at the grip and this time it came away in his hand, and then suddenly his descent was arrested. Floating gently down and swinging from side to side, he could still hear the plane in the distance. There was a strong wind and it was snowing. Everything seemed so quiet after the noise of the plane. He was not afraid now and tried to look for Chen. Far below he could see the large black patches of villages here and there. As he neared the ground he tried to control the parachute by pulling on the ropes. Skimming over the tree-tops he first hit a grave-mound, then a second ; again pulling on the ropes he tried to bring the 'chute under control, but the wind was too strong. Exhausted, he reached for his knife but could not get it out of the scabbard, and with his head buried in the crook of his arm, he was dragged, bumping along on his chest from one frozen sweet-potato furrow to another. Scratched, bruised and exhausted he came to rest on a barbed-wire entanglement outside a village.

It was still snowing and the white parachute had apparently not been noticed by the sentries on the walls of the village. He did not recognise the village and thought it might be a Japanese or puppet encampment. Quickly cutting him-self loose from the parachute, he tried to disentangle it from the wire, fearing that if it was left it would soon be discovered, but with the strong wind it was impossible and, following the wind to the west, he decided to run.

After about half a mile he found a road and continued west, skirting the villages. From the text on a memorial stone by the side of the road, he knew he was still east of the Chiao River. Suddenly he slipped and fell headlong into a communication trench and at once realised he was in "guerrilla" territory. Stopping near the next village, he buried all his documents under a tree and approached a small house on the outskirts. As he knocked on the door, a querulous old voice asked him what he wanted and he recognised the dialect as that of Pingtu district. He asked for a guide but was refused on the pretext that there was a sick child who could not be left, but, getting directions, he set off with the know-ledge that another four miles would see him across the border into our area. There was still a heavy wind and snow falling. At last he came to the edge of the Chiao River, but the ice was not yet sufficiently strong to bear his weight and he had to struggle along the bank to a bridge, from where he made his way to the Middle School of the Four Virtues. The Principal hurriedly got him some hot water and a change of clothes. By the time he had changed and had a meal, a messenger had left for Headquarters.

Chen, who was much lighter, had been badly dragged. He had lost his boots, socks and gloves. Semi-conscious, he was found early in the morning by a farmer, dangling from the ropes of the parachute, which was entangled in a tree. The farmer, fearing to take action himself, sent for the nearest soldier. Chen was eventually cut loose, placed on a door and carried back to the village, where he was wrapped in a padded quilt and placed on a heated k'ang.

The next morning we went along with Yu-min to examine the packages, which by now had all been collected. They were in excellent condition and the only thing lost was a package of food and clothing sent by a U.S. Army colonel on the off-chance that we could get it to his daughter in camp. It took us the whole day to check over the medical supplies and we decided to have them buried for safe keeping in the event of a Japanese attack. The money we handed over to Yu-min.

The most important item to us and to the unit was the radio transmitter and receiver. Yu-min called in his radio expert and together we went over the equipment. Every-thing appeared to be in order. It was carefully repacked and transported by carrier-coolies back to our own quarters at the village of the Ch'iao family. Yu-min instructed his radio man to transfer his headquarters to our village, so that he would be able to give us any assistance required in setting up and operating it.

Fortunately I had at one time spent three years at sea as a radio operator and although I had forgotten most of the technical side of the business, I was still able to read Morse code. The transmitter was powered by a wet storage battery and we were supplied with a hand-driven generator for charging. In due course everything was hooked up. The receiver worked perfectly and we located the stations that had been assigned to work with us. Switching over to the transmitter, we got only a faint sound out of it which gradually faded away to nothing. Switching hack again to the receiver, the same thing happened. Obviously the battery needed charging. We procured relays of coolies to turn the generator and for hours on end they ground away, Arthur and I taking turns to watch over them all through the night. Again we tried but with the same results — a few moments more and the battery was dead. We repeated this for several days. Yu-min was sending messengers down from Headquarters several times a day to find out what was going on. The whole unit were anxiously awaiting the opening of direct communications between them and their American allies in Chungking.

Arthur went through all the Chinese technical books we could lay our hands on and finally we diagnosed the trouble. The shock of the drop had evidently caused a leak, and the fluid, wetting the excelsior in which the battery was packed, caused it to discharge. Having discharged, it froze. Once frozen there was apparently nothing one could do about it. We set about getting another. Messengers were sent to Tsinan, Tsingtao and Tientsin, but nothing similar could he bought. Finally we decided to try car batteries and gave orders to purchase six. It was several weeks before the first arrived, and when it did we had to set about charging it. In the meantime Yu-min had become very agitated, particularly with his radio expert, whom he blamed for not having car batteries on hand, since they had captured several Jap trucks.

During these days we saw a lot of «Prosperous Year», who had more or less attached himself to us, and whom we found to be very useful. He was enjoying a holiday which he felt he had earned, and indulging in luxurious — in fact, by guerrilla standards, riotous -- living, and he saw no reason why we should not do the same. We had only to mention to him anything that we wanted and somehow or other he managed to get it.

One evening whilst we were having dinner he dropped in to see us and to inform us that he had been appointed a "chu jen", which was the lowest form of official life. He refused dinner but sat down with us while we were finishing our meal and had a glass of wine. Groping in his pocket, he produced a small brown-paper package which he carefully opened and placed on the table it contained what appeared to be dried shrimps. Sipping the hot wine and discussing the gossip of the day, the evening soon passed.

"Yu-min," he told us, "is considering what form of title he can confer on both of you. Your position is now of vital importance to the unit and as such you are entitled to have some say in the administration of affairs. In order that you may have authority, it is necessary that you have a suitable position. He does not think that it is fitting for you as British and American subjects to hold military rank in the Chinese Army. After much consideration he has decided to confer on you the rank of Advisers to the unit. In due course you will receive official notification."

We replied that it seemed quite unnecessary to have any title at all, but if it pleased him we would accept the honour. We congratulated ourselves that we had not been put in the noxious class of "Councillors", a sop usually thrown to the "has beens" or the "just-missed-its" a collection of really rather useless people.

It was not until we had come to the end of the wine and finished the "shrimps" that we learned we had been eating dried scorpions!

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