On the Expedition Road: Recalling Past and Present - Chinese Expeditionary Force Veterans in Myanmar

Author: Yu Zhiyun
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: Never Bow to Fate – An Interview with Veteran Zhong Yunqing
Living in the mountains, Zhong Yunqing finds it hard to adapt to urban life. It’s not just the towering skyscrapers and endless streams of traffic that overwhelm him, nor the murky air and bizarre lights that dazzle his eyes. Even the cacophony of noise is enough to make his mind restless. Yet, amidst this noisy world, we had a wide-ranging conversation with an elderly man. Zhong Yunqing, of medium height with a slightly hunched back, completely white hair, and forehead etched with wrinkles, was clearly a weathered and deeply troubled man. He was composed and rarely smiled. When we asked him to share his battle experiences, he grew unusually animated. His hands clenched into fists, then slowly opened, only to clench again, repeating the motion. He seemed lost in thought, as if reliving the flames of war, stepping back into the battlefield of his past. We had no doubt about the words he once spoke: "If it weren’t for the outbreak of the Anti-Japanese War, I would have stayed in my beautiful and prosperous hometown, farming for a lifetime."
He was born into a poor farmer’s family in Beiliu County, Yulin, Guangxi. Due to financial hardship, he didn’t start formal schooling until he was nine. After graduating from elementary school, the weight of family life fell on his shoulders. He loved his hometown and had no aspirations for urban splendor; he was also hardworking, radiating boundless energy. Every day, barefoot and bare-backed, whether chopping firewood in the mountains or tilling the fields, he worked with ease and diligence. By his late teens, he had become an expert in farming.
In 1937, the July 7 Incident and the Japanese imperialists’ iron hooves shattered his dream of farming for life. In times of national crisis, every man had a duty. He was conscripted, took up arms, left his home, bid farewell to his parents, and joined the Anti-Japanese battlefield.
He first trained for six months in Li Zongren’s army, then was sent to the Fifth War Zone and participated in the famous Laohekou Battle. About his initial experiences on the battlefield, he frankly admitted he was once very scared. At the sound of gunfire, his heart would jump, his hands would tremble uncontrollably, and his aimed shots would often go astray. But as the battle intensified, fear became secondary. After a few engagements, he grew accustomed to it. Hearing gunfire again felt as ordinary as hearing firecrackers on New Year’s Eve. If he ever went without the sound of gunfire, he would feel something was missing.
During the Second Changsha Campaign, he distinguished himself. He described it this way: "That time, Japanese cavalry charged our position with reckless abandon. We weren’t ready, and before our defensive formation could take shape, their horses scattered us, causing heavy casualties. It took great effort to drive them back. When the enemy charged again, we were prepared. ‘Kill the horse first to kill the man.’ I shot down one of their horses with my rifle, then stabbed the Japanese soldier who fell off it with my bayonet. That battle was fierce, with heavy casualties on both sides. We fought ‘trampling over the bodies and heads of the dead.’" At that point, his face glowed with excitement.
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