First-hand experience of the Anti-Japanese War battlefield in China, India, and Myanmar

Author: Luo Da-ren
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2005-08-01
Features: This book is a firsthand memoir of the Chinese people's War of Resistance against Japanese aggression, focusing on the China-India-Burma theater. In the narrow region from the southern foothills of the Himalayas in northeastern India to the China-India-Burma border, hundreds of thousands of Chinese sons and daughters fought bravely, and hundreds of thousands sacrificed their lives for the nation. This book records the special circumstances, special battles, and special life experiences of that period. It is accompanied by over 100 historical photographs, allowing readers to experience the battlefield and history firsthand. Suitable for: Historians, history educators, and general readers. Commemorates the victory of the World War II against Fascism and the 60th anniversary of the victory in the War of Resistance against Japanese aggression.
The tattered and yellowed diary evoked memories of an extraordinary period that had been buried for over half a century and still moved me deeply. The events took place during the War of Resistance against Japanese aggression when the Japanese invaders had occupied most of our motherland. Among the 8,000 students of Southwest Associated University (a joint establishment of Peking University, Tsinghua University, and Nankai University in Kunming), 1,129, accounting for 14% of the student body. The most was between 1943 and 1944, when all male graduates of the 1944 class, except for female students and those with disabilities, were conscripted to serve as interpreters for the U.S. military in India. I was one of them. I was transferred to the U.S. military in India on March 16, 1944, and was only discharged in September 1945, after the war, having served for a year and a half. Although the time was short, the special circumstances, environment, battle tasks, and life experiences left me unforgettable impressions.
We fought in the narrow region where the southern foothills of the towering Himalayas in northeastern India met the China-India-Burma border, amidst the wild mountains with lush greenery stretching for thousands of miles. The area was remote and uninhabited, filled with miasma, deadly diseases, lurking predators, and swarms of giant ants and insects, with danger lurking at every turn. There, we had to fight the cunning Japanese "savages" who had long occupied the strategic points and were waiting for us to strike, as well as dealing with arrogant and racially prejudiced white Britishers in covert struggles. We even had to contend with stubborn factionalists within the Nationalist Party army who were corrupt and yet our comrades. The situation and interpersonal relationships there were complex, and we were caught between whites, blacks, Indians, and Burmese, suffering deeply from racial discrimination and witnessing the subjugated lives of colonial people living worse than pigs and dogs. There, devils and angels danced together, and justice and evil were indistinguishable—it was a crucible for tempering character.
The students of Southwest Associated University passed the test. Hundreds of thousands of Chinese heroes fought bravely on the Yunnan-India-Burma battlefield, and tens of thousands sacrificed their lives. They lay there, their bodies exposed to the elements, prey to insects and ants, but their loyal spirits remained, lingering in the clouds, unable to find their way home. The surviving heroes endured countless hardships to build a prosperous future for their motherland. Now, after decades of struggle, most have left this world, leaving few behind, all of them blind and deaf, with white hair and wrinkled faces, and they too will soon depart.
The long river of history rolls forward—without the past, there is no present, and without the present, there may be no more glorious future. How can history be allowed to be interrupted?
Recalling the past, each event tugs at my heart, accumulating into knots that are hard to unravel. I am already over eighty years old, with little time left. If I do not reveal the details I know to the world, my heart will not be at peace, and I will be guilty of failing my comrades who fought and died. Today, using the diary I wrote at the time as a, I recall what I saw, heard, and thought, and I describe the truth and reality of the time with sincerity. I hope that modern people or future generations will feel as if they are on a time tunnel express train, stopping at that time and place to witness the true facts and realities of that cruel war. If this comes to pass, my long-standing knot will be resolved, and I will be at peace even in death.