Chinese Literature

shouldn’t it reach a yet wider audience? The story is now laid before you with her permission.

It was in the spring of 1951 that I set out from Shenyang to Korea. I ran into air-raid after air-raid as I travelled through the winding highways, among mountains, through green pine woods, and across clear streams ... sometimes through the rubble of ruined towns. Finally J arrived at a Section H.Q. of the Army Service Corps. I had already picked up the rudiments of military strategy, and knew that in the war against United States aggression in Korea, the supply services played a major role. In fact victory depended as much on supplies as on other services. I also knew that I was going to a famous supply unit, which kept the transport road open in the face of almost insurmountable odds, and was never halted by air-raids. I was also looking forward to meeting the C.0O. Commandant Shen, who is an old friend... .. I first knew him in Yenan more than ten years ago. I was particularly glad therefore to have arrived in this outfit.

Preparations were in hand for the Fifth Battle, and as the military pundits have it, “Munitions are the life blood of war,” so the Corps was working all out. The Political Commissar, Comrade Li, had gone to inspect the front zone, Political Officer Wang was conducting political briefing among the troops, and only Commandant Shen with two aides was at H.Q. directing the show.

One night began like all the other nights, with a scene of intense activity. The homestead where the H.Q. was quartered was in a hubbub from dark to dawn. The sentry at the door was alert, challenging any comers, and being the air-raid alarm when necessary, so that we knew when to make the black-out complete. An orderly was also hanging around, busy and slack by turn. In his busy moments he strode in and out as purposely as a ferryman with his pole, but in between he lounged or squatted outside the door. Now and again he looked in through the cracks, or listened through the paper windows. This was Feng Hsiaokui, who had been with the Commandant for six years, starting off as

one of our beloved “little devils” and was now a first-rate orderly. He-

knew his Commandant inside out, and could tell what he was thinking by his very breathing. I took to Feng Hsiao-kui immensely ; his intelligence and straightforwardness shone out from him. So much for the general appearance from outside.

Inside, three candles burned. By comparison with the Korean village, this was brilliance, but these three candles were not enough really to read the transport map on the wall. The telephone on one wall was in constant use. One of the aides was using it incessantly, to the exchange,