第八章 进入游击区
 
CHAPTER VIII

INTO GUERRILLA COUNTRY
第三十五节 女游击队员
35. Guerrilla Girl
  看完秧歌表演,我们立即出发继续赶路,这次是往南朝漳河方向行进。解放区与国民党统治区是以这条河流分界的。因为需要绕过国民党占领的城镇,我们除了带有一名向导以外,还有七八个民兵一路护送。

  这一带的主要渡口观台当时在蒋军的盘踞之下,因此我们只好折回朝西走,想找一个能避开蒋军机枪扫射的渡口。这样一来,耽误了一些时间,加以我们出发就已迟缓,所以当晚未能按原定计划赶到漳河边,只好投宿在一个名叫白岔的小镇。我们是不速之客,找住处颇费周折。陈翻译四处去号房子,我和刘明基暂时呆在一家澡堂里。澡堂外面立刻聚集了许多围观的群众,一时人声鼎沸,七八个人的卫队也无法把他们轰散。澡堂里面蒸气弥漫,实在憋得难受,于是我决定还是出去亮相痛快些。我故意坐在大街中间的一块石头上,让那些好奇的老乡饱尝眼福。刘明基看到我在人群中现眼,感到很焦急。我自己倒无所谓,因为我发现,当我讲了几句中国话之后,围观的人们也就见怪不怪了。

STAYING only long enough to see the finish of the dancing, we set out once more on the road, this time heading south, toward the Chang River, which here marked the boundary between the Communists and the Kuomintang. As we would have to thread our way around Kuomintang-held towns, we had a guide avid seven or eight militiamen as a guard.

  Because Chiang's troops held the town of Kwangtai at the main river crossing in this region, we had to dc4ible back on ourselves and move westward in order to find a crossing that they could not enfilade with machine-gun fire. This, coupled with the fact that we had started late, delayed us so that we did not reach the river that night, as we had planned, but holed up in a small town called Paicha. As we were not expected, there was some difficulty in finding a room. While Mr. Chen went off to see what he could scrape up, I took refuge in a bathhouse with Liu Ming-chi. A loud crowd soon gathered outside so that even our augmented force was scarcely enough to keep them back. Finding the atmosphere of the bathhouse too close and steamy for comfort, I decided to go out and brave the lesser evil of the crowd. Deliberately I sat on a stone in the center of the street and let the peasants come up and paw me to their heart's content. It made Liu Ming-chi sad to see me so besieged, but I did not mind playing the freak so much, for I found that once I had said a few Chinese words, people ceased to look at me as something strange.
  忠实可靠的陈翻译奔走了一个多小时,回来把我们带至镇外一座大宅院。这原属于一家地主,现在住的是观台煤矿的老板,他是从国民党统治区逃出来的。将这位煤矿老板写进本书并非我的原意。后来,当我回到美国,看到《时代》杂志和《生活》画报上连篇累牍地大肆宣扬前大使蒲立特的某些讲话,而那些国会议员们也偏听偏信,居然不假思索就把五亿美元奉送给蒋介石,我对此感到大惑不解。

  蒲立特先生在写给《生活》画报的一封信中声称,只有从共产党地区逃出的难民,并无从国民党统治区逃出的难民。前一句倒也是事实,后一句则纯属无稷之谈。我就亲眼见过成千上万的人从国民党统治区逃到共产党地区,他们的出逃绝不是出于寻求浪漫主义或冒险的非非之想,而是为了逃避那些横征暴敛的税吏,乱抓壮丁的征兵队,以及活埋他们亲人的地主还乡团。并非所有的难民都是穷人,我在这村里见到的这位就是一个从蒋管区逃出来的富有的资本家和孔孟之徒。

  The faithful Mr. Chen, after an hour or so of tedious searching, returned and led us outside of town to a tremendous stone mansion, formerly occupied by a landlord, but at the moment occupied by the owner of the Kwangtai coal mines, a refugee from the Kuomintang. It was not my intention to bring the coal-mine owner into this book, but since returning to America I have been rather surprised by the fact that certain statements of ex-Ambassador William C. Bullitt, given wide circulation by Time and Life magazines, gained some credence among American congressmen who had no way of knowing differently and consequently had few qualms about throwing a half a billion American dollars into the lap of Chiang Kai-shek.

  Mr. Bullitt declared in a letter to Life Magaaitte that refugees fled from Communist areas, but not from those areas controlled by Chiang. While the first statement is true, the last is patently untrue. I personally saw thousands of people flee to the Communists, not out of ideas of romance or adventure, but simply to escape the tax collectors, the draft agents and the mobsters who buried their relatives alive in pits. And not all were poor. Here in this village I was now face to face with a capitalist, a quoter of Confucius, a wealthy man, if you please, who had run away from Chiang Kai-shek.

  “你以为我是一个穷人吗?”他苦笑着说,“我的先父和祖上过去都在观台开办煤矿,我在观台有雄厚的资产,万贯家业,但现在只好丢下了。为什么呢?还不是让蒋介石给坑害的。

  “那些军官老爷掠走了我五万吨煤,一倒卖全肥了私囊。我把凡是能卸走的轻便机器全部搬到这儿来了,要不然这些机器准会被国民党以国有化为借口予以没收。你去过蒋管区,一定知道所谓国有化是怎么回事,简直就是公开抢劫,假公济私。有一千多工人跟我逃了出来,还有二千工人留在观台,可是后来他们也接踵而至,因为在那边实在活不下去了。凡是从蒋管区逃出来的都是象我们这样走投无路的人。人们懂得,跟着国民党毫无前途。

  “当初我的确很害怕到解放区来,因为我听说共产党都是些土匪。那时谣言纷纭,我的亲朋好友、国民党的军政官员都对我说,共产党必然会加害于我们这些工业资本家。可是我在解放区却得到了共产党的扶持。后来我学习了他们对民族工业的基本政策,才知道他们对我毫无恶意。”

  他越说越激动,为了使他冷静下来,我换了一个话题,问他是否赞成土地改革。“是的,”他回答说,“我赞成土地革命,因为不进行土改工业就不可能得到发展。虽然我不赞成土改中的某些过火行为,但我完全赞成斗争地主。我深信不会有人要斗争我,因为我从来没有伤害过任何人。如果他们要斗我,我可以把我的全部财产都交出来。我平生唯一的愿望就是使我的祖国富强起来。中国需要和平,对我个人来说,更是如此。我无法理解为什么美国公然支持蒋介石发动内战。只要美国人撤出中国,和平指日可待。那时我就可以回到矿区,重振家业。”

  "Do you think I was a poor man?" he said, smiling sadly. "My father and my grandfather before him managed the coal mines at Kwangtai. I have vast property there. I was rich. But I gave it all up. Why? I was being made poor by Chiang Kai-shek.

  "The officers took fifty thousand tons of my coal and sold it for their own personal profit. I moved out what light machines I could and brought them over here because they would have been confiscated for the so-called nationalization. You have been in Chiang Kai-shek's areas. You know what nationalization means. Just looting by private individuals and nothing more. One thousand workers came over here with me. Two thousand stayed behind. But they are constantly running over here, too, because they have no way to live. That's why anyone flees Chiang Kai-shek's area. Because he sees no future with the Kuomintang. Not a particle of hope.

  "Sure, I was afraid to come over here. I had been told - who hasn't that the Communists are nothing but bandits. My friends, the officials, the army officers, all told me the Communists would harm industrialists. But I was helped by them and then I learned their program toward industry and I knew they had nothing against me."

  Obviously, this mine owner was quite angry. To calm him down I asked him if he approved of the land reform.

  "Yes," he said, "I approve of the agrarian revolution because industry cannot be developed without it. I don't approve of some of the cases of violence that have taken place in the land reform, but I do approve of struggling against the landlords. I am sure no one will struggle against me, for I have never harmed anyone. But if they do, I shall give up all my money. All I care about is developing our China. We must have peace. A man like myself especially needs peace. I can't understand why America deliberately fosters a war by helping Chiang Kai-shek. If America got out of China, there would be peace in a very few weeks. Then I could go back to my coal mines again."

  次日凌晨,草草吃过早饭,我们使启程朝漳河进发。本来在夜间渡河较为安全,因为此地处于国民党观台守军的炮火射程之内。但实际上即使在白昼渡河也并无多大风险,因为渡口与国民党炮兵阵地之间恰好隔有一座小山;据民兵们说,蒋军炮手的曲射技术相当差劲。

  整个上午,我们沿着一道狭窄而曲折的峡谷攀登上山。这一带山间乱石嶙峋,土层极薄。 当地农民顺着山势修了层层梯田,直达山巅。一块块梯田面积极为狭小,地边用石块垒砌成半圆状的堰,以防水土流失。为了修筑这些梯田,人们该付出多么惊人的劳动啊!然而每年庄稼的收成却少得可怜,真是令人凄然。

  再走了一会儿,连梯田也没有了,两边尽是高达百米的悬崖峭壁。峡谷小道迂回盘旋,十分险峻,宛如走入一个无顶岩洞迷宫。

  Early the next morning, after a meager breakfast, we set out for the Chang River. It would have been better to cross the river at night, for we would be within artillery range of the Kuomintang garrison at Kwangtai. But there seemed little danger even in the daytime, as there was a hill between the ferry and the Kuomintang guns and, according to the militiamen, the Kuomintang gunners were no good at indirect fire.

  All morning we climbed uphill through a narrow twisting canyon. The rocks in this region were numerous and soil extremely scarce; nevertheless the farmers, who were nowhere in evidence, had terraced the slopes nearly to the top of every peak. The plots of ground were extremely small and each one was buttressed by a semicircle of rocks to prevent the earth from sliding away. The terrific labor necessary to build these fields, which could have given but a poor crop, impressed me in a kind of melancholy way.

  After an interminable walk, even the fields gave way and we found ourselves marching between sheer rock walls which rose to heights of two and three hundred feet above us. The trail in this canyon doubled and bent back on itself in a most surprising way and it seemed almost as if we were marching through a maze set in an unroofed cave.

  走出峡谷,眼前豁然展现出漳河两岸。清澈碧绿的激流从悬崖陡壁之间穿泻而出,奔腾直下华北平原。河水流过一个名叫任村的衬庄,把它一分为二。村中的农舍都是灰色平顶的房屋,一个荷枪哨兵站在屋顶上,朝着下游国民党占领区了望。沿河往西上行三四里,两岸悬崖相望,中间架有一根缆索,渡河的人们坐在平底船上,用手抓住缆索,慢慢朝前移动。我们走过一段石滩,登上这只简陋的渡船,缓缓过了河。河水流经山间,分外清澈凛冽。小船抵达彼岸,我们踏上了安阳县境。

  我们在河道一处露天茶摊休息了片刻,喝了一点水,啃了几棍胡萝卜。所谓茶摊,就是在一堆篝火旁摆上两张桌子外加几条长凳,除了开水而外,根本就没有“茶”这样的奢侈品。这里的老百姓看起来比河对岸的还要贫穷,孩子们穿着绽露出棉花的破裤烂袄,婴儿吸吮着母亲没有多少奶汁的干瘪乳房。

  Emerging from this canyon, we abruptly came out on the shores of the Chang River, a pale, green, swiftly flowing stream which just at this point emerged from between two rocky hill walls and ran on a straight course toward the plains below. The little village of Yangchen, divided in two by the river, with its gray, flat-roofed houses - on top of which stood a sentry with a rifle looking downstream toward the Kuomintang lines - was just at the water's edge. Upstream, a mile or so toward the west, were two rock cliffs between which ran a wire cable. By means of this cable, men were pulling a flat-bottomed boat hand over hand across the stream. Marching up a rocky beach, we boarded this crude ferry, slowly crossed the river, which ran clear and cool here in the hills, and reaching the other side, set foot in Anyang County.

  Resting awhile in the other half of Yangchen, we munched on a few carrots and drank some water at the local outdoor teahouse. Actually, this teahouse consisted of two tables and a few benches placed near a bonfire, and there was nothing so luxurious as tea but only hot water. People here seemed poorer than on the other side of the river. Cotton showed through holes in the black pants and the white jackets worn by the mountain children, and the breasts of the women feeding their babies seemed less full of milk than I had heretofore seen.

  村子虽小,村里居然还有一所学校,这是我走进河边一座小庙里发现的。庙里除了几条长凳以外,空空如也。过去供奉神像的几个石案,现在做了学生们的课桌。当时不是上课的时间,只见长凳上放着几本书,我拿起来翻了翻,有一段课文是这样写的:

  太阳出山岗,
  爸爸下地忙,
  儿童上学堂。
  太阳下山了,
  爸爸收工了,
  儿童放学了。

  我独自一人在教室里徘徊。不一会儿,走进来九、十岁模样的两个男孩和一个女孩,羞怯地望着我。我教他们玩画格子游戏(用小石子当笔,以泥土当纸),很快就跟他们熟了。我问那个女孩家里有几口人,她回答说,爸爸当民兵,家里还有一个奶奶和一个哥哥。

  “那你妈妈呢?”我问道。

  “不在了(死了)。”

  “真可怜。”我说道。

  小女孩伤心地哭了,一个男孩拉拉我的袖子,对我说:“她妈被活埋了。”

  我当时听不懂“活埋”是什么意思,直到几天之后,我才完全明白它的含意。我说了几句安慰的话,走回茶摊去了。

  “活埋是什么意思?”我问陈翻译。

  “就是把人活活埋掉。”他回答说。

  The village was very tiny, yet it boasted a school, which I discovered by walking into a tiny temple set near the water. The temple, if it had once owned idols, now had none, but was completely bare save for the pupils' benches. There were no desks; some stone ledges, upon which the idols might formerly have rested, served the purpose. School was not in session, but there were some books lying on the benches and I picked up and read these words:

  Sun rises; papa goes to work; child goes to school.
Sun sets; papa comes from work; child comes from school.

  I had wandered into the schoolroom alone, but in a moment two young boys and a girl about nine or ten years old entered the room and gazed shyly at me. Having won their friendship by teaching them a game of ticktacktoe - using a stone for a pencil and the earth for paper - I asked the little girl how many people there were in her family. She told me she had a father in the militia, a grandmother and a brother.

  "And your mother?" I asked.

  "Not here." (Dead.)

  "That's too bad," I said.

  The girl started crying. One of the boys jerked at my sleeve.

  "Her mother huo mai," he said.

  I didn't understand the words "huo mai," - though in the next few days I got to know what they meant very well - and after a few perfunctory words I went back to the tea tables.

  "What's huo mai mean?" I asked Mr. Chen.

  "Buried alive,"he said.

  我把遇见那个女孩的事告诉了陈翻译,我们想一起再去找找她,可是那个女孩已经走了。 这时,我们的警卫人员正在向过路的民兵打听前边的情况,这些民兵经常出没于观台一带。根据他们提供的情况,国民党的搜索部队常常进山骚扰,因此我们必须回头从西边迂回前进。眼见天色已晚,我们决定先停下来在河边过夜。

  民兵中有一个佩带手枪的姑娘引起了我的注意。一打听,原来她也是民兵的一员。当晚我对她进行了长时间的采访。

  她的名字叫梅素,长得很结实,肩宽腿粗,象个棒小伙子.她大约只有十八九岁,头黑发直垂到肩上,面颊黑里泛红,一张小巧的嘴长得很美。下身穿一条灰色的旧布裤,上面溅满了泥垢,上身穿一件紫红色布衫,也是污渍斑斑。她的父亲是一个佃农,在她幼年时,父亲双眼就失明了。她的两个妹妹都在一次饥荒中活活饿死了,她和奶奶在野外靠挖野菜充饥挣扎着活了下来。

  梅素刚十二岁,就被村长抓差去替日本人修路。她每天都遭到汉奸监工的毒打,至今身上处处还留有伤痕。她十五六岁时被许配给一个比她还小一岁的男孩。全家人为饥饿所迫,只好让她提前过了门。婆家的人根本不把她当媳妇看待,而是当丫头使唤。吃饭也不许她上桌,只给她吃一点残菜剩饭,她经常忍饥挨饿。每次她跟丈夫发生口角,他就跑到他妈那边去告状,于是母子俩就把她毒打一顿。她全身都被他们打遍,背上、腿上、胸部,见哪打哪,一边打一边骂她不知好歹。

  她的丈夫替日本人干事,日本军官常到她家来,婆婆总是逼着她替日本人端茶倒水。日本鬼子常常借机调戏她,因此她拒不肯侍候这些家伙。有一次,就为这事她被揍得死去活来。她一想这日子再也过不下去了,她把房门闩上,找来一根绳子悬梁自尽。她一下子失去了知觉。当她醒过来时,发现绕在脖子上的绳子断了,床上溅满了鲜血。从此,她身患重疾,无力气干活,这就招来更狠毒的打骂,有时终日连一口饭也不给她吃。她实在忍受不了这样的虐待,逃回了娘家。她的公公和婆婆直追到她家,奶奶拼死不让他们把她带走,被他们打昏在地。邻居们闻讯赶来,才搭救了她。从此她就和老奶奶相依为命,靠着在一小块菜地上种点菜糊口度日。可是她的丈夫和婆婆还是常来抓她打她,她终日提心吊胆,唯恐重陷火坑。

  I told Mr. Chen the story and we tried to find the girl, but she had gone. While this had been taking place, our guards had been inquiring the conditions of the road from a few stray militiamen who were operating in and out of Kwangtai. From information they gathered, it seemed that the Kuomintang had stuck a probing finger still deeper into the hills and that we would have to climb back to the west some more and make a detour. As it was already late, we decided to call a halt and rest on the banks of the river for the night.

  Having noticed among the militiamen a girl with a pistol and having learned that she was a member of the militia band, I spent a great part of the night interviewing her.

  Her name was Misu. She was quite husky and looked almost like a masquerading boy, with stocky legs and heavy shoulders. Possibly nineteen, she had deep red cheeks and straight hair that fell to her shoulders in a bob, and she had a sensuous mouth. She wore a pair of torn gray, cotton pants, stained with recent mud, and a wine-colored jacket, filthy with the drippings from many millet bowls. She was the daughter of a tenant farmer who had gone blind when she was young. Two of her sisters had starved to death in a famine and she had only kept alive by living in the fields with her grandmother and eating raw vegetables.

  When Misu was twelve, the chief of her village had conscripted her to work on a road for the Japanese. At the hands of the Chinese overseer, she had suffered daily beatings, traces of which her body still bore. When she was fifteen or sixteen, she had been betrothed to a boy one year her junior. Because most of her family was starving, she went immediately to her in-laws?house, becoming not so much a wife as a maidservant. She never ate with the others, but only what they left, and that was never much. Whenever she had an argument with her husband, he ran and told his mother and the two of them beat her unmercifully. They beat her on the back, on the legs and on the breasts, all the while telling her that she was a most ungrateful girl.

  Her husband worked as a clerk for the Japanese Army and often Japanese officers came to visit her mother-in-law who made her serve the officers tea and cakes. She rebelled against these duties, for the Japanese generally molested her. After one such refusal, she was beaten in a particularly brutal fashion. In despair, she locked herself in her room, tied a rope over a beam and hanged herself. She lost consciousness, but woke up some hours later, the broken rope around her neck and her bed smeared with blood.

  Afterward, she was sick and could not work well. As a consequence, she was beaten even more severely and deprived of almost all food. Despairing of her life, she ran home. Her mother- and father-in-law followed and broke into her house. Her grandmother fought viciously to prevent her from being taken away, but was beaten insensible to the ground. Neighbors came to her rescue. From then on she lived at home with her grandmother, the two of them, as before, eking out a starvation diet from the vegetables they grew on their small plot of ground. From time to time, however, her husband and mother-in-law caught her and beat her and she went in constant fear of being kidnaped.

  这个时候,日本人撤退了,山里的八路军开进了观台镇。

  一天,一位女干部来到她家,对她说:“听你们家邻居们说,你受过很多苦。现在中国妇女翻身的日子来到了,你再也不会受苦了。”多年来,有谁同情过她这个苦命的女孩子?干部的亲切关怀深深地打动了她的心。

  她把自己的希望吐露给奶奶——也是她唯一的亲人听。老奶奶也说,男女平等敢情是件好事。可是又给她泼了一盆冷水:“自从盘古开天辟地,三皇五帝到如今,男人就是天,女人就是地。咱们能有啥办法呢?”梅素把奶奶的话告诉了那位女干部。女干部说:“有办法,咱们组织起来嘛。只要咱们组织起妇女会,大伙儿都来诉苦情,看今后谁还敢欺压咱们妇女?”这一番话使梅素深受鼓舞,从此她便全心全意地投身于妇女工作,每日走街串巷,发动妇女们组织起来。由于工作积极热情,她被选为她所在片的妇联主任。在妇联的支持下,她终于与丈夫离了婚。

  

  About this time, the Japanese retreated and the 8th Route Army, which had occupied the hills around Kwangtai, entered the town.

  One day a girl cadre came to her home and said: "Your neighbors tell me you have suffered much. Now a new day has come for Chinese women and there is no longer any need for you to suffer."

  Because no one had ever shown her any sympathy before, Misu was completely won over by the cadre's kindness. She confided her hopes to her grandmother - her only friend. The old woman agreed it would be wonderful if women were the equal of men, but dashed cold water on Misu's hopes. "From ancient times till now," she said, "man has been the Heaven, woman the earth. What chance do we have?"

  Misu told her grandmother's words to the cadre. "You must organize," said the cadre. "If we form a Women's Association and everyone tells their bitterness in public, no one will dare to oppress you or any women again."

  Much moved, the girl threw herself wholeheartedly into the work of organizing the women on her street. Because of her zeal she was elected head of the Women's Association on her block. Through the aid of this association, she succeeded in obtaining a divorce from her husband.

  不久,内战爆发了。观台也组织起了民兵队伍。她经常和民兵们在一起,坐在一旁看他们擦枪。很快她也能帮民兵们擦枪了,民兵们有时也教她放空枪玩。新政府为了照顾她生活困难,给她发了小米。她乐得眉开眼笑。

  一九四六年,国民党军队开进了华北平原,企图攻占观台,进而消灭太行山区的游击队。人们纷纷撤离观台。梅素也随着群众一道撤出。进山后,她帮助妇女们安家,组织她们纺纱织布,解决生活问题。

  后来,她回到观台附近地区,要求参加民兵游击队。开始,大伙儿都取笑她,但经不住她再三坚持,最后才同意让她干点烧火做饭、缝缝补补的杂活。不久又分派她搞侦察工作,她把头发盘在脑后梳成髻,化装成家庭妇女模样,经常出入镇内收集情报。

  大年除夕那天,她挎上一只篮子,装上糖果烟卷,还附有八路军县长写给蒋军土兵的一封信,信上写着,“我们知道你们都是被抓来强迫当兵的,我们与你们往日无冤,近日无仇。如果弟兄们实在混不下去,何不弃暗投明?”她把这只篮子放在蒋军碉堡外边。不久。果然有两个蒋军土兵投诚过来。

  梅素感到很自豪,但并不满足,因为她还没有参加打仗。她决心学打枪,到山里以野狗当靶子练枪法,人家问她,她就说:“打狼。”后来,她又站在山崖上,往下面的河里投手榴弹,逐渐克服了对手榴弹爆炸的恐惧心理。自那以后,民兵们就让她和大伙一起参加战斗了。

  因为她对观台的情况非常熟悉,所以每次制定作战计划都有她参加。但在历次袭击观台的战斗中,她一般都是担任把风放哨的任务。一次在民兵与国民党还乡团交火时,她爬上观台城墙,也举起枪朝敌人射击。这次战斗消灭了两个敌人。事后她说:“没准其中一个是我干掉的。”

  她是个文盲,对共产主义一无所知。她说,她之所以拿起武器参加民兵,是因为八路军是她所见到的唯一不欺压老百姓的队伍。她把自己的命运与八路军紧密地联系在一起。她盼望着将来战争结束后能过上好日子。她并没有什么过高的奢望,只希望当一个普通工人。她相信中国将来一定能发展自己的工业,到那时她能进工厂当工人也就心满意足了。

  她是我在中国这几年亲眼见到的第一个扛枪上前线的姑娘。 她参加游击队并非出于浪漫的想法,而是为了自己的生存而战。她貌不出众,粗手大脚,没有丝毫的娇姿媚态。除了身上穿的,她没有任何好看的衣服,一生连一把牙刷也不曾有过,与香皂更是无缘了。她就是这样一贫如洗。她没有花容玉貌,但是她满腔热情,干劲充沛。我在这里没有用她的真名实性,因为她目前正在从事的工作十分危险,一旦被捕,绝无生还之望。

  也许她现在已经与世长辞了,倘若还在人间,我祝她平安。

  

  About this time, the civil war started. Kwangtai organized its own militia. The girl used to sit by the militiamen and watch them clean their guns. Soon she was cleaning the gun of each armed man on her street. As a joke, they taught her how to fire a rifle, but always without bullets. In the meantime, the new government to allevinte her poverty gave her some millet. She was very happy.

  In 1946, the Kuomintang armies, having entered the North China Plain below, decided to attack and occupy Kwangtai and eliminate any threat from guerrillas in the Taihang Mountains. Many people left the city. Misu went along, helping other women find homes and obtaining cotton for them so that they could spin and make enough money to keep alive.

  Later, she returned to within a mile of her native Kwangtai and volunteered her services to a band of militiamen. They laughed at her. She persisted. Finally they allowed her to help with the cooking and to mend clothes. Soon she began to do espionage work, binding up her hair like a married woman, entering the town and gathering information.

  On New Year's Eve, she left a note written by the county magistrate in a basket of candy and cigarettes outside a Kuomintang blockhouse. "We know you have been impressed into service," said the note, "so we bear you no enmity. If things get too hard, run over here to us." As a result, two Kuomintang soldiers had come over.

  Misu was very proud, but still not satisfied, because she had done no fighting. She trained herself for combat by shooting dogs in the hills. "Wolves," she told all who questioned her. Later, she overcame her fear of hand grenades by standing on rocky ledges and throwing them into the river far below. After that the farmers let her carry arms and go on raids.

  Because she knew Kwangtai well, she soon came to plan most of the raids. On such raids, she generally acted as the lookout for the militiamen. Once, however, she climbed over the wall of Kwangtai and participated in a gun fight with members of the Home Returning Corps organized by the Kuomintang. On this occasion two of the enemy were killed. "Maybe I shot one of them; I don't know," she said.

  This girl could neither read nor write. She knew nothing of Communism. She had taken up arms, she said, because the soldiers of the 8th Route Army were the first who had ever been kind to the people of Kwangtai. If the 8th Route Army were beaten, her life would not be worth living. After peace came, she had high hopes of a better life. She was not ambitious. She just wanted to be a working girl. She thought China could build up industry and she could work in a factory. That would give her great satisfaction.

  In all my years in China, this was the first girl whom I had actually seen carrying a gun on the front. This girl had not joined the guerrillas out of any romantic notions, but to fight for her existence. Plain to the point of ugliness, and with rough hands and coarse features, she was no glamor girl. She had no dresses, but only the clothes she wore upon her back. She had never owned a toothbrush, nor ever brushed her teeth, and by the looks of her, had seldom come in contact with soap, so desperate was her poverty. What she lacked in beauty and dainty manners, however, she made up for with passion and a vital animal energy. I haven't used her real name here because she was engaged in a very dangerous business that would probably only lead to execution if she were caught.

  For all I know, she may now be dead, but if she isn't I wish her well.

  次日,我们继续行军,开始略偏北行,然后又向南再朝西,绕过距国民党军队的阵地只有几千米的一座圆形小山。途中还遇见一群从蒋管区逃出来的难民。我们沿着一条崎岖的山间小径继续前进,终于在天黑后不久到达了安阳县政府机关驻地。

  翌日清晨,一觉醒来,我发觉自己身处在一个景色宜人、清静整洁的小村子里。村庄座落在一片高地上,大约有一半的房舍傍着山。全村将近四百人口,有两所学校,两三口水井,没有商店,却有一个剃头的摊贩。

  山村如此安详宁静,简直令人感觉不到是处身于游击区的中心地带。唯一可见的军事行动的迹象,就是偶尔穿街而过的毛驴,驴背上驮着一筐筐土制地雷,运往与国民党交战的前线。然而正是在这个小山村里,一位三十来岁、英姿飒爽的年轻县长指挥着抗击国民党的游击战争。还有一位年方二十八岁、教员出身的副县长,正在离此不远的敌后指挥作战。县级领导机关其实并无固定的地点,县领导及其下属人员转战到何处,就在那里的农舍里办公。

  虽然他们日常都要处理大量的情报工作,但并不为文牍所羁绊。由于县政机关经常转移,他们就把大部分文档送往后方,其余的就地埋藏,随身只携带少量最重要的文件。转移时,副县长把他的行装驮在一头驴背上,带上一两个随行人员,翻山越岭而去。他们办事非常干练,工作卓有成效。

  当时,位于平原地带的安阳县城及全县约五分之四的区域,都在国民党军队和地主还乡团的盘踞之下。我们被压缩于观台和水冶两镇之间很狭小的地带里。这两个市镇各有国民党重兵把守,他们时时出城骚扰,并企图在两镇之间建立一道封锁线。但我们经常突破敌人的封锁,渗入到国民党纵深地区。我方在这一带尚无正规部队,渗入敌后的只是经过专门训练的游击小分队,甚至就是些流动作战的民兵武装。安阳县的群众所进行的完全是一场人民战争。

  The next day, we proceeded slightly to the north, then south and west around a domed hill within a few thousand yards of Kuomintang positions and picked up a band of farmers who had fled over from Chiang's side. We continued walking over a narrow mountain trail, and at last, sometime after dark reached the headquarters of the Anyang County government.

  On waking in the morning, I found myself in a small village extremely clean and in a way quite charming, which was located on a plateau and built half on the side of a hill. The village had about four hundred people, two schools, a couple of wells, no shops, but one street barber.

  We were in the heart of the guerrilla area, yet you would never have known it, so peaceful did the village look. Almost the only signs of military activity were the occasional donkeys which passed by with baskets of homemade mines on their way toward the Kuomintang lines. Nevertheless, it was from this village that the county magistrate, an extremely handsome man of about thirty, directed the guerrilla warfare against the Kuomintang. Some miles further off, and much closer to the enemy lines, the assistant magistrate, an ex-schoolteacher of twenty-eight, directed operations behind Chiang's troops. Actually, the county offices of these two and their subordinates were located in farmhouses in whatever territory they happened to land.

  Although they did an extraordinary amount of intelligence work, they were not too burdened down with documents, sending most of them to the rear, burying others, and carrying the most important ones with them when they moved, which they often did. On such occasions, the assistant magistrate would pack his things on a donkey, and just take off across the mountains, with one or two of his followers. It was all very simple, but somehow effective.

  At the time of my arrival, the city of Anyang on the plains below and about four-fifths of the whole county were occupied by Kuomintang troops and numerous Home Returning Corps organized by the landlords. We were pressed into a very small area of the county between the towns of Kwangtai and Suiyeh, which were held by good-sized Kuomintang garrisons. Between these two towns, from which they sometimes emerged?on raids, the Kuomintang had tried to set up a blockade line, but we were continually penetrating through this line into the Kuomintang rear. These penetrations were not made by regular troops, for there were none in the area, but by a group of specially trained guerrilla commandos and above all by roving farmer bands. What was being waged in Anyang County was strictly a people's war.