Friends and enemies

From the Japanese occupation to the Korean War, Long Fenggao saw more than his fair share of violence. He reflects on the 'fighting philosophy' that saw him through troubled times

Long Fenggao is a 78-year-old retired policeman in the southern city of Guilin in the Guangxi Zhuang autonomous region. However, his life story is far more dramatic than that of a typical policeman, reflecting the harrowing wartime experiences of millions of Chinese people of his generation.

"I'm old," he says. "Your interview has come at just the right time."

Among his first memories is the rescue of a US pilot by villagers during World War II.

"Were it not for the US Flying Tigers, the volunteer pilots from the United States, the people of Guilin would have suffered much heavier losses in the Japanese bombing," he says. "A friend in need is a friend indeed. I think both the Chinese and the people of the US should cherish our history of fighting together against fascism for liberty and peace."

Long looks younger than his age, and he attributes his youthful looks and happiness to the fearlessness he developed during wartime. "After seeing so much death and chaos, I only see happiness in my life now."

In 1940, when he was just 5 years old, his mother died of an illness, and his father died in a bombing raid when he was 10. His two elder brothers and one younger brother died of infectious diseases that Long said were caused by the Japanese using bombs containing biological agents.

Long lived in Yangtang village, a suburb of Guilin. "I learned about the world through the wild countryside of rice paddies, rivers and woods. In my dictionary, there were no such words as school or teacher."

He was labeled as both the naughtiest and the smartest kid in the village. Most of his childhood pals are now dead, having spent their whole lives as farmers in Yangtang, living hand to mouth. He was the only one in his group of friends to earn a government salary.

Reading from his own article on the subject to make sure he didn't miss any details, Long recalled the night they found the pilot: "One night in the fall of 1944, after the family of a fellow villager, Long Qiaobao, had completed the funeral of his father, we were having some food at midnight, when a villager named Li Delong hurried back from the toilet, shouting that he had found a wounded US pilot on the farm."

Just 9 years old at that time, Long followed the villagers to the rice paddy.

"The pilot was tall and his legs were broken and he could not speak any Chinese. He must have been wounded during an aerial battle with Japanese fighter pilots that evening," Long says.

"He chose to eat some beef and groundnuts and the villagers laughed at the fact that he still had a clear enough head to choose the best food. Led by a man holding a lantern, he was carried on a stretcher by two villagers to his headquarters 10 kilometers away."

The stretcher was made from the same wood that was used to carry the dead villager's body hours before, along with hemp rope, which the villagers had unfastened from their wooden casks. The three villagers came back at 5 am with three packs of US cigarettes and a story that they told proudly until their deaths.

In the summer of 1945, after his father's death, Long left Yangtang to live with his uncle, a rice-noodle maker, in Guilin. Shortly afterwards, his uncle's shabby wooden house was burnt down by the Kuomintang army, in line with the anti-Japanese "scorched land" strategy that sought to ensure the invading Japanese forces were left with no valuable assets.

His uncle was once nearly beaten to death by Japanese soldiers just because he offered rice noodles to the soldiers, who thought they were poisoned. His real intention was to show his obedience in a bid to protect his family.

"I always felt positive about the future because all Chinese people, including me, were confident that we would win the war against Japan soon. Maoism was like a torch lightening my life, because Mao said the poor people like me should rise up and fight against unfairness in society."

After the Kuomintang were defeated by the Communist Party of China, Long felt he could finally decide on the kind of life that he wanted for himself. It was the "fighting philosophy" of Mao Zedong that became the bedrock of his life.

"The fundamental task of the Chinese revolution is to find out who our enemies are and who our friends are," he says, reciting Mao's words fluently. "The success of our revolution lies in our ability to unite with our friends to fight against our enemies."

In 1950, he was enlisted as a cookhouse squad assistant by the People's Liberation Army and joined a series of actions suppressing local bandits.

"My fearless and aggressive fighting style won me promotion in the army," he says.

Then, in 1953, his unit was transferred to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea to fight in the Korean War.

"I saw a US pilot saved by the folks from my town. Then I was on the way to fight the US army. To convince myself that the war was justified, I told myself again and again that the family name of the pilot from before was Roosevelt, but the US army's family name in the DPRK was Truman. They are different."

Luckily, before he was transported to the frontline in the Battle of Triangle Hill, the Panmunjom truce agreement was inked, bringing an end to the fighting.

He came back home and from 1954 he started working as an army messenger. Aged 19, he started teaching himself reading, writing and arithmetic. His intelligence and hard work won him the love of He Lianzhen, a village head's daughter. She became his wife, bearing him four daughters.

Now 75, she reflected with satisfaction on her choice of husband: "He is a thoughtful husband and a responsible father. We have never quarreled since our marriage in 1955. What more could I hope for?"

On leaving the army, Long became a policeman in a labor camp for surrendered Kuomintang military officials, whose ranks ranged from regimental commander to army commander.

His experiences there, like all those that went before and came later, have shaped his view of Chinese politics.

He is convinced that Maoism is the ultimate solution to many of China's problems today, while Deng Xiaoping's flexibility and open-mindedness are also important.

He often recalls his experiences in the labor camp, and one conversation in particular stands out.

"One Kuomintang army commander used to ask me, greatly puzzled, how the illiterate could become leaders in the army, while only those with an education could become military leaders in the Kuomintang."

"I replied that the times have changed; the people are now the owners of the nation."

Recalling this story from so long ago, Long pondered its meaning, lost in contemplation.

Returning to the conversation, he says the story has resonances for today: "The Kuomintang army commander's question actually has practical implications for modern China, where so many officials have become corrupted. They are not lacking in knowledge, but they don't have a faithful belief in Maoism."

Huo Yan contributed to this story.

liyang@chinadaily.com.cn

(China Daily Africa Weekly 04/25/2014 page29)