Paul Tsui's Memoirs - Chapter XI : A Refugee in Free ChinaA Refugee in Free China

Revised as at 20 Oct 89

The reality of Defeat in War was, everything you anticipated, went off like a bubble. Everything you might have planned, had to be changed. For me, there was no more Spring or Summer Term at the University to return to. No more Final Degree Exams to worry about. No more job hunting to do, if I ever graduated with a Degree. I could not see any future for me to remain in Hongkong. I had to do something about seeking a future, whatever that might be, in another place. England was too far away, and she was already "At War" with Germany and Italy, and now with Japan. Rabaul, New Guinea was just as far away, and there was no ship to take me there. Even British North Borneo, where my brother Philip was, was beyond reach. The only place left, was China the Immense Free China, my fatherland, about which I had learnt to sing, to recite poetry in her praise, and for a long time yearn to see for myself and to explore. Thus, early in the morning on a day in late February, 1942, along with my Papa, and my brother Matthew, I started my long journey, on foot, for my fatherland, "Free China". I packed everything I had in one old leather bag, the same bag which I used, five years earlier, to carry my personal belongings to Rabaul and back. It survived the Battle of Hongkong, as it was placed for safe keeping with the servants quarters in May Hall. Had it not been for a make shift trolley, built of wooden boards mounted on 4 wheels taken from a baby-pram, it would not have been possible for me to have it brought back all the way from the University to Fanling. Piled in the old leather bag, I included my most precious papers, (i) the newly obtained (ii) a Letter of Introduction by Prof. L. Forster, Dean of Faculty of Arts, and also (iii) another Letter of Introduction by Mr. Ma Kiam, Head of Chinese Department. Also included in the pile, was an album containing a number of photographs, of which quite a few recorded many a happy days of my life at the University. I had two winter and two summer suits, one blazer with HKU Coat of Arm sewn on it, a few shirts and underwears and a two spare pairs of trousers. For my travelling apparels, I wore my favourite grey soft leather jacket, which I earned by giving private coaching to an old friend from the Canton University, who was anxious to improve her English. I had a sweater and a shirt underneath. I wore a pair of grey flannel trousers, and a pair of light dancing shoes. Because it was light, the dancing shoes proved to be very comfortable for long distance "hiking". We took the way, via ( ) by-passing ( ) on to the disused railway of the Canton-Kowloon Railway. At the Man Kam To bridge, there was a check-point manned by over a dozen Japanese Soldiers. They asked me to open my bag, and also searched my body. On top inside my bag, was a copy of my old Japanese Language text book which I used, when taking Japanese as a 3rd language, at the Canton University in 1937-8. It must have pleased the Japanese soldier to have noticed that a young Chinese student like me, had an taken an interest in learning the Japanese language. He smiled and let me off easily after having seen my text book for learning Japanese language on top of my personal belongings in my bag. At that time, the railway had all its bridges demolished or partially demolished - as a token of the "scorch earth" policy, when the Chinese Garrison retreated, which was one of the basic national defence policy of China. It became a nuisance to us, who had to walk the whole journey. For the evenly spaced sleepers of an abandoned railway track, were ideally spaced for my foot steps. It helped to regulate my steps, and thereby increase the speed of my walking. However, with the bridges totally or partially demolished, it meant that every now and then I had to lift up my heavy bag and carry it on my shoulder, to cross the broken bridge on a very narrow ridge - something like walking on a tight rope, which could be quite precarious. There was another check-pont at Po Kut railway station, which was about 3 miles north of Sham Chun market. The journey from Fanling to Li Long took us three hours, half of which was on pretty good road or footpath, the other half on the trail of a disused railway.

As indicated in Chapter I, at the beginning of this memoirs, Li Long was originally, a Seminary for the training of Pastors and Preachers for the Basle Mission. The Seminary had long been in disuse, but the buildings were still there. Up on top of a small hill, there were the living quarters for the European Missionaries. They had long been vacant. In one of the rooms where I spent a few nights, I could still find a few abandoned razor blades in the washroom, left behind by the previous occupant. There were a few pretty good old fashioned sleeping beds, wardrobes, writing desks, oil lamps, mirrors and even old chamber pots. The mosquito nets were already rotting, but still served the purpose for the few nights when I was there. In one part of the building, there was also the remnants of a Library, at which some old books in German, could still be taken down to read, if one were interested. However, the incumbent Chinese Pastor and his family, chose to have as his living quarters, in another block building, built according to the needs of the local staff. When we arrived, my mother and the rest of the family had already swept and tidied up a self contained unit of European Staff Quarters for our family. We moved in as if we were taking up a well prepared house, which we had booked for a holiday.

Before my arrival at Li Long, my brother Matthew had warned me in advance, to be careful in what I might inadvertently say. Li Long, though apparently abandoned and located in what might be described as "No Man's Land", was in effect, "garrisoned" by a band of Communist Guerrillas, which the locals referred to as "Hung Kwan" ( ) (The Red Army). They were not part of the Nationalist Irregulars. They did not like being referred to as "Communists" or "Red Army", but preferred to be referred to as "Guerrillas". They were well disciplined, and would pay for anything they bought from the locals. They would help the locals in whatever their helps would be needed. In return they relied on the locals for information, in case their enemies, which included not only the Japanese Soldiers but more so the Kuomingtang troops, the regular or the irregular. They protected the villagers against bandits, and would help in settling differences between the villagers, and even act as conciliators in cases of disputes. They usually slept up in the hills, or in definitely vacated empty houses, but would never disturb the occupied homes of the local inhabitants. When I arrived at Li Long, I could not tell who was a "guerrilla" or who was not. I could not even see the arms they might have been carrying. The locals, however, knew who was or who was not. In my short two days stay at Li Long, I had not come face to face with any of them, nor had they presented themselves to me. One thing, however, was certain, their reputed presence provided us with a real sense of security. We had had two nights of peaceful and restful sleep, which we badly needed for our anticipated long journey.

After two days' rest. the entire family, - composed of my father, my mother, my elder sister, Mary, myself, my brother Matthew, his wife Clara and her few month old baby, my younger sister, Louisa, my three-year old younger half- brother, Tat Cheung, - packed and began our long journey. As we had old and young, men and women as well as boys and girls in the party, we had to hire footmen to help to carry our luggage. My father, who was an experienced traveller, directed that we should not over exert ourselves. For the ordinary able body adult travellers, they were expected to cover at least 20 miles if not 30 a day. However, my father insisted we should not attempt more than 12 miles a day. Thus the first part of our journey brought us as far as Tong Tau Ha ( ), the railway station next after Ting Tong Wai ( ), which in turn was next after Ping Wu ( ). Tong Tau Ha was just about 10 miles away from Li Long. On our way, near every sizeable village, we noticed that a village guard, with a rusty old rifle, stood as a sentry, under a banner indicating his status, by the side of the railway track, to "protect" the passers by. In front of him, was a basket, containing some banknotes and coins, to indicate that "Tips" would be welcome. However, in all three villages we passed by, we did not notice much activities in the villages. That night for a small fee, we slept in an almost abandoned Inn in the "deserted" Tong Tau Ha market, by the old railway station. We had to cook our own meals, and there were little food to buy in that abandoned market town. The Inn was so dirty, it was obvious to me that it had not been cleaned for at least 6 months. There were bugs as well as mosquitoes disturbing us through out the unforgettable night. I was mighty glad that we left ( ) quickly, after an indifferent breakfast the following morning. Walking along the abandoned railway track, we made as far as ( ) the next day. Shek Ma was located near the ( ) Station ( ), which was the mid-way station between ( ) by Rail. Shek Ma was a much cleaner market town than Tong Tau Ha. It was located within the KMT garrisoned area. It had a cleaner Inn for us to spend the night, and the Market had more things to sell. There was even a restaurant in the market town. We had a relavely decent meal that night.

The next day, we continued our journey on foot, and we made as far as Chun Lung, another market town, located a little over half way between Cheung Muk Tau and Wai Chow ( ). On the way we began to see more people, more life and more activities all round. The plain was obviously fertile, full of vegetations in the fields. Cattle too could be seen, and we even saw a herd of goats, being herded around. I began to say quietly to myself: "So this was China, my fatherland, about which I had sung songs, in praise of which I have recited poetry, about its people I had admired essays, and read novels ! How nice it was, just to breathe the sweetness of its fresh air ! To listen to the songs of its birds and of men and women living in it. Early in the afternoon, we reached Chun Lung, a prosperous market town, when compared to the two we witnessed on the days before. The market was very busy and there were plenty of goods as well as foods for sale. The Inn we lodged that night, was much cleaner and better serviced than what we had had at Tong Tau Ha or Shek Ma. However, I felt sticky and itchy after the warm day's walking. I hurrily took a hot bath. After bath, I noticed something whitish in the seams on my underwears. I took a closer look at it, and I soon discovered that the whitish things were in fact a sort of bugs. I then asked my mother what they were. With a quick look, she instanteniously shouted: "LICE ! LICE" ! Not convinced, I asked: "What?" and she repeated: "LICE! LICE! ". I had seen flees, bed-bugs, mosquitoes, ticks, beetles, bees and wasps before, and although I had been fond of using the term "Lousy" to describe conditions I disliked, never before in my life, had I ever actually seen a "Louse". It was a real shock to me, finding Lice not only on my clothes, but also on my body, biting deep into my skin, and biting close to the roots of my hairs - on my head, in my arm pits and near my private part! I cried "O, My God !". My mother then advised: "Use Camphor Oil, rubbed it hard all over your body. It would help to delouse"! That I quickly obeyed, after buying a bottle of Camphor Oil from a neighbouring store. Quickly, I stripped myself down to the last piece of my underwears, and had them soaked in boiling water. I rubbed camphor oil hard all over my body, and then I took another hot bath after that. I repeated the same operations for a few days after that. Eventually, I was deloused. On thinking over, I supposed I could only have picked up the LICE, when spending the first night at that dirty and literally "Lousy" Inn at Tong Tau Ha.

Relatively speaking, Waichow was not so far away walking from Chun Lung. It took us a little over 3 hours. Miles before reaching Waichow City, the partially destroyed what was once a motor road wound its way through a narrow valley, where the hills on both sides were relatively steep and high. It gave a sensation more as a gorge or Canyon than a valley. As we wound our way through the "gorge", my father commented by saying, this was the famous "Fei Ngor Ling"( ), the Hill of the flying Geese", where many a brave soldiers had lay down their lives in the year 1925, when the crack troop of the North Expeditionary Force of the Kuomingtang Ming Tang Army, the Cadets from the famous Whampoo Military Academy, led by Chiang Kai Shek, decided, as the initial battle of his Great Expedition, to take Waichow from the hands of defending Marshal Chan Kwing Ming( ). The topography of the Valley simply favoured the defending forces, thus the attacking forces suffered very heavy casualties. So heavy that it nearly frustrated Chiang Kai Shek Expeditionary Efforts. As we passed through the Fei Ngor Ling Valley, we could see on our left, the calm and peaceful, mirror like water of "Sai Wu" ( ), the West Lake. The ( ) lied just beneath the Western Wall of the "Fu Shing" ( ), the Prefecture Township of Waichow. It was beautified, if not immortalized, with the construction of two causeways, by the historically famous poet-statesman, ( ) who displeased the Emperor by loyally advising His Imperial Majesty not to take certain action, which resulted in his being banished to this remote part of the Empire.

In point of fact, Waichow, was a twin-township, if not a twin-city. The two component parts of the township lied on the two (eastern and western) sides of a distributory waterway, flowing from the Tamshui Districts in the south, on to the main stream of the East River, which ran along the Northern limits of the twin township. The part on the West side used to be the Administrative Centre for the Prefecture, governing no less than 10 separate counties along the East River Basin; the part on the East side used to be the seat of the local government, responsible only for the County of Wai Yeung ( ). Thus the Eastern part was referred to as the "Yuen Shing" ( ) or County's Town; and the Western part was known as the "Fu Shing"( ), the City of the Prefecture. The "Downtown Centre" of the "Fu Shing" had a cross road, wide enough for motor vehicles, with its northern arm leading to the Chung Shan Park at the north; the Civil Government Offices were located a block away to the south. The west arm of the Cross Road led its way to the West Gate, outside which lied the famous "Sai Wu"( ) or West Lake. The eastern arm of the Cross Road led to an impressively built concrete bridge, connecting the "Fu Shing" to the "Yuen Shing" on other bank of the Distributory. (The bridge was partially destroyed as a token of the "Scorch Earth Policy", when we were there. Dominating the "Yuen Shing" was a wide well paved road, known as the "Shui Tung Kai"( ). the Street to the East of the River, on both sides of which were rows of wholesale and retail shops. It was the business sector of the twin township. The jetty at which motorized boats and manually pushed boats, plying up and down stream along the East River, was located half way down the Shui Tung Kai. Beyond the end of the well paved wide Shui Tung Kai, was the ancient Township of Wong Kar Tong. At the extreme east end of Wong Kar Tong, were two Christian Mission Stations; one was Roman Catholic, the other Seventh Day Adventist. Both had a hospital as a part of the Mission station. The Seventh Day Adventist one was more elaborate than that of the Roman Catholic. Each had its own church and a hospital building. The former, however, had a campus which included 3 bungalows as married quarters for the foreign missionaries, the latter had only a two-storeyed house, with cubicles and common room facilities for the clergy, who were celibate. Being a Catholic, I made a special effort to call on the Parish Priest, Fr. A. Ma, and took the opportunity to say a few prayers in Thanksgiving at the St. Joseph's Church. To get to the church, I had to wind my way through many old houses built on both sides of narrow lanes, a greater majority of the buildings were pretty ancient, some were already in such a ruinous stage as to be beyond repairs. There were not much of a drainage to speak about, let alone arrangements for refuse and sewage disposal. The majority of the populace drank and used the water drawn raw from the East River. The odd households which had private wells of their own, would guard them jealously against intruders. (Incidentally, Waichow was the home town of the widely known and well respected Kuomingtang General Lee Hoi Wan ( ), alias Lee Yin Wo ( ), who was the father of the present day Honourable, Martin Lee Chu Ming of Hongkong in the late Nineteen Eighties). Gen. Lee was the Political Commissar of the Kua Ming Tang for the Chinese Army in the VII War Zone.

Again we arrived at Wichow early in the afternoon. My father brought us to lodge our luggage in a whole sale shop half way down the Shui Tung Street on the Eastern side of the twin Township. There I first arrange to take a bath, intending to thoroughly delouse myself. My father soon disappeared for a while. When he creturned about an hour later, he announced that he had successfully negotiated to "charter" a manually pushed boat, to convey the whole family up river, on a week long journey to Lo Lung. We did not take one of the motorized river boat, as it would be too expensive for so large a family. So we hurrily moved our luggage down the Jetty and placed them on board the boat for the night. On board the boat that evening, my father bought a good supply of pork, tau fu, and a chicken and some vegetables. We had a really good meal for our dinner that evening. The boat, however, had to wait two days to have successfully, negotiated to carry a ship load of Salt, to make the trip worthwhile. The freight for the salt was their "bread and butter"; our passage fares were only incidental. Two days after, when fully loaded, the boat weighed anchor. We started our upstream journey. The boat had a crew of 5, of whom 4 at a time would each use a long bamboo pole, to move the boat. Each of the poles had a metal piece at the pointed end, and a shoulder piece at the other end. The metal piece would be stuck to a hard point at the bottom of the river bed, and when securely stuck, the boatman would place the shoulder piece at the other end on his shoulder and push the pole towards the opposite way they wished the boat to progress. Thus, according to the principle of "actions and reactions are equal and opposite", the boat began to move as the crew desired. The boat we chartered was of the "Hon Kong" Type ( ), with its bow constructed to bend upwards. So constructed, the boatmen would only need to step backwards up the inclined slope, and with the help of the weight of his entire body, the strength required to push the boat was thus reduced to almost half. As they did their pushing, they hummed their song-like humming - the local version of the Song of the Volga Boatmen. Thus with 4 boatmen, rapidly repeating similar actions by turn, as they hummed their musical hummings, the boat moved faster than the other type, which had two long planks on both sides of the boat, outside the hull, on which and along which the boatmen would walk as they push the boat. Further more, if a wind prevails the right direction, the boatmen would simply uplift the mat cover of the "cabin" and convert it to be a sail, in which way, the boat could move even faster without the need of the boatmen pushing the boat by pushing the poles. One of the 5 member of the crew was the Coxswain, who sat at the stern. He always sat on the left side of the steering arm of the rudder. In front of the coxswain's seat, was a dug out, the place for the cooking stoves. As he push his steering arm forward, his steering arm would go in front of the cooking stove, and the boat would turn Left; and as he pulled the steering arm backwards he would be pulling the steering arm behind the cooking stove, and the boat would turn Right. Thus by shouting: "Front Of Stove", the Coxswain would mean, turn Left or "Port"; and by shouting "Behind The Stove", he meant turn right or "Starboard". As I had never been initiated by such hard working sights, the sight of their apparent hard work on the first day was somewhat depressing. "Why should they be working so hard so that we could be on our way in comfort, sitting on the deck enjoying the gentle breeze of the river, was the sort of feeling arisen within my mind. However, we soon got over it, as the crew themselves soon shared their jokes with us when they take their frequent periodical rests, as if we had been old friends.

The East River was marked by a number of famous landmarks, each had a back ground fairy tale to back up its name. Upstream, we passed by places such as, Wang Leck, Koon Yum Kok, Ku Chuk, Shek Kung Shun, Ho Yuen, Yee Hop, Wong Tin, Lam Hau, Lau Shing, Lung Chuen, before we reached our destination Lo Lung. It was late winter or early spring, the rains had yet to come. Water was low and at many spots, shallow with shifting sand banks, not easy to navigate. At times, the whole crew had to go down to the river and lift the boat which had got stuck on sang banks. The most difficult tasks were the tasks of negotiating round bends where the water flow formed into rapids. If not careful, the whole boat could be smashed against the rock of a hard rock. Navigating a fully loaded boat up river could be a very slow affair. More often than not, we found we could walk faster ashore than the boat would move upstream on the river. I recalled landing at the corner of a bend at a point called Ngau Ku Shek ( ), where I walked with my father, who took me to another famous Mission station at Ku Chuk ( ), located about quarter of a mile away from the river bank. There we had tea and a chat with an old acquaintance, and then walked about a mile away up stream to rejoin our boat. We covered our distances, had our social, and enjoyed our walking exercises, and we were there to meet our boat in good time. The boat took 10 days to complete our journey to Lo Lung ( ). On the way, apart from visiting the mission station of Ku Chuk, we sight saw the clean and tidy county town of Ho Yuen ( ), we visited our old friends at Lam Hau( ). The boat rested early in the evening, when we could lie down peacefully to admire the beauty of the landscapes. The coxswain was fond of telling stories and of comparing notes with my father, who had his own versions of the same or similar stories. The Coxswain, who was well positioned near the dug out for the cooking stoves, also helped to cook our meals as we went along.

For some years, the Basle mission had granted full independence to the local church. The latter was to stand on its own, financially; to administer its affair independently, and to spread the gospel on its own. To carry that out, it had its own Chief Executive in the person of Rev. Ho Shu Tak (who functioned more or less like the Bishop). Rev. Ho established his administrative headquarters at Lo Lung in the County of Lung Chuen, a river port, upstream, on the bank of the East River. From Lo Lung, you had motor road westwards, leading to Ku Kong( ) and more far, via Chung Sun( ), Lin Ping( ), Yung Yuen( ) and Ma Pa( ); and also motor road eastward leading to Hing Ning( ), Mui Yuen( ) and so on. By river upstream, it led to Lai Tsui( ) and Wo Ping( ), and downstream it led to Lam Hau, Ho Yuen, Ku Chuk, Waichow and more far. At Lo Lung also, the mission had a well attended church and also a primary school. When landed at Lo Lung, we first lodged our luggage at the Primary school, where my cousin, Tsui Yan Cheung ( ), was the headmaster. We also made contacts with other relatives and friends, including the Rev. Ho, whose wife was formerly a teacher of my mother. We took a few days rest here, before proceeding to our ancestral village at Tsim Hang( ) in Ng Wah County( ), which was two days' walk away from Lo Lung. This turned out to be the crucial point at which decisions had to be made, regarding our respective futures. Mary, who was a qualified nurse, was soon offered a post of a School Nurse, at a Provincial Government Secondary School at Lam Hau, which she readily accepted. Along with her, was another offer of a post as Teacher of English to my brother, Matthew, who by then was already married, and had only recently begotten a baby boy. So he too hastely accepted the offer. Going with him, was his wife Clara, and their baby boy. That settled the problems for three of them. I hesitated for a while. I considered myself a full fetch university graduate, and had a degree in Chinese Literature. In theory at least, I stood a fair chance of succeeding in getting a job with the Chinese Government. To do so, I had to move on, at least to the war time provincial capital of Ku Kung. That also meant that I had to travel further. It cost money to travel. Papa had only limited funds left at his disposal, and he had a large family to feed and to sustain. It cost money, even though if he were to raise the family in the ancestral home in remote village of Tsim Hang. It happened then, one of our cousins, (Liu Ki Ming ( ), my former teacher in Tsung Him School and later at Kowloon Wah Yan), who had only recently returned from Hongkong, and had boldly invested the whole of his life time savings in buying a 5th hand (not second hand) old Lorry, intending to run it between Lo Lung and Ku Kong. The 5th hand Lorry had to be extensively repaired and reconditioned before it could operate. When he had just about spent his last dollar in repairing the truck, and the latter was ready to have a go, he then discovered that to move the Lorry, he also had to pay his driver and his mechanic in advance, besides buying fuels (charcoals) and Lubricants. He did not have any cash left. So, he negotiated a loan of CN$300.- from my father, - hardly enough to meet his cash flow problem,- on the clear understanding that he would take me on, as one of the passengers, from Lo Lung to Kukong, and that on arrival in Kukong, where and when he would be paid his dues, for carrying the load of salt, he should repay the loan of National Currency of $300.- to me, rather than to my father. That princely sum of NC$300, was all that my father could spare for me to seek my fortune. To swim or sink, it was made amply clear to me, that was all I could expect from my ever loving father. So, with the prospect of hopefully receiving a repayment of NC$300.- from my dear cousin, I braved my way to Kukong, venturing to an unknown and unpredictable future ! It was on the 15 March 1941. I remembered it quite clearly, because it was the "Ides of March", from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.

Most, if not all the trucks using the road had been converted to use charcoal instead of petrol. They took a long time to heat up in the morning before the engine could start. Only the most favoured or respected passenger would be offered a seat in the driver's cabin in front, others had to be contented to lie over bags of salt, stacked up high close to the ceiling at the enclosed back. My cousin's truck was no exception. On the barely repaired truck, fully loaded with salt, carrying myself and another distant cousin of mine, Dr. Tsang Oi Man ( ) , as passengers, with our dear cousin owner, Liu Ki Ming acting as the "purser", we braved our way towards Kukong. Dr. Tsang was given the front seat. The road was not surfaced with tar or bismuth, the twin "running" tracks, however, were reinforced with gravels to make it more motorable in wet weather. Drivers had to be very courteous bypassing one another particularly when climbing up or going down hills. Our truck stopped at the first halt of Chung Shun, where one of the tyres punctured. That was sufficient to cause the truck to stay the night at Chung Shun, so that the punctured tyres could be mended. Early next morning, we continued our journey by climbing the steep hill slope over the first hump to Lin Ping. By Gosh, what a sight it was ! climbing up to a lofty height of 3 to 4 thousand feet, along a winding path of endless twists and turns, through the pine tree groves, with steep hill slopes on both side, one side up and one side down. By a slight mistake of misjudgment or a doze on the part of the driver, the entire truck could have rolled and tumbled down the steep slope to some 500 yards or more below. Prior to that, I had heard a lecture by Dr.Robertson, the Malaria Specialist, mentioning the scaring experience of dangerous hill climbing of trucks along the Burma Road. Never had I realized that the same could be so close and so real, in a place so near as Chung shun and Lin Ping in our beloved Kwangtung Province. Up on top of the hill, with the pine tress around us, the fresh air really smelt fresh and good. I would love to experience it once again, if I have the chance. We stopped at Lin Ping for a mid day meal, and then on we went, climbing yet another hump from Lin Ping to Yung Yuen - equally high up, equally hair raising and exciting. We ended the day at Yung Yuen, recovering from the excitement we had had on that day. Waking up early the next morning, my cousin Dr. Tsang bought $10.-worth of freshly roasted Roast Pork, and share it with me. By Gosh, it was delicious ! I don't think I had ever tasted any other roasted pork so good as that before, nor thereafter. At the next stop for our mid day meal at a place called Koon To ( ), when least expected, and of all the people, I met Dr. Ho Hung Chiu ( ), formerly President of the Students' Union at HKU, and his wife, Kwok Tin Yau. ( ). They had joined the Chinese Red Cross a year before, bringing back to China, an ambulance we helped to raised funds to buy, with medical supplies, to help the war efforts. They must have been roaming all over China, I guessed. Yet the next stop was Ma Pa ( ), the place where the Provincial Bank of Kwangtung, to avoid air raids, had its war time headquarters. Within half an hour's time, we were at Ku Kong, the war time provincial capital of Kwangtung Province, where I took it as our journey's end.