Название | The Long March |
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Автор произведения | Sun Shuyun |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007323470 |
Wang would have preferred harsh measures – otherwise men would all want to stay at home. Much to her disappointment, the Party amended the Marriage Law: women could ask for a divorce if they did not hear from their husbands for three years, instead of six; and the children they bore in the meantime would be recognized as legitimate ‘because they are the masters of our new society’.
But in the recruitment drive in Shi Village, Wang decided to be tough. She told the old lady and her daughter-in-law to bring in their men from their hiding-places in the mountains – or else they would regret it. She left them in no doubt what the punishments were. ‘We will publicly shame you at the rally tonight. Then we will put posters on your doors, windows and gates, denouncing you as traitors and deserters. All the benefits you have received, food, blankets, clothes and oil, will be returned to the government. And your men will be forced to work on the Red Army soldiers’ land, or be sentenced to a year's hard labour. Please think carefully.’
The grandmother sat in the front row at that night's execution. After Party secretary Liu was shot in the head, the blood trickled towards her feet across the floor. Her legs were shaking like paddy husks, but she struggled to stand up and offered her two grandsons. Many followed, including two women who signed themselves up. Wang had more recruits than her quota. For the first time in many months, a genuine smile lit up her face.
I thought I recognized that smile when Wang recounted the final moment of the story, as if she was back in front of the crowds, encouraging, agitating and judging. There was no pity, no regret and no apology. The confidence that the truth was with her was unshakeable. The Revolution was supposed to be for the masses and they were treated like an inexhaustible mine from which the Party could dig everything they needed. It did not occur to them that the peasants could not bear any more burdens. If their support was crucial for the Revolution, as they were told all the time, perhaps their reluctance and even refusal was part of the reason why the Party and the Red Army had to abandon their base in Jiangxi and begin the Long March, to search for a new one. I doubted Wang ever thought this way. She simply did what the Party told her, and did it very well. As it was, she hardly had time to enjoy her success and report it to the Party, when an urgent message came from Ruijin on the evening of 15 October: ‘Important event. Return at once.’
She set off immediately with the messenger. It was good the moon was almost full, guiding her every step of the way, while she grappled with the mystery of why she had been called back so suddenly. Could it be her delay in meeting the deadline? She had not heard from her boss – it was as if she had been forgotten. She feared she might be thrown in prison, like her friend, or worse, executed.
‘If I had to die, better to die in battle, taking a few enemies with me. That would have been worth it.’ Now her mind was all on battles. Suddenly the thought came to her: was a big battle coming? From the early summer, apart from recruitment, she had taken part in another government campaign to borrow or appropriate grain from the peasants. The target was one million dan of rice – almost the entire autumn harvest in the Soviet. They got there in three months, using much the same methods as the recruitment drive.
At the same time, there was a call for funds: 800,000 silver dollars were issued as government bonds. Everyone must buy them, or donate money. She thought the women's department was very ingenious in asking women to donate their silver jewellery. Perhaps they were inspired by Mao, who noticed this custom in southern Jiangxi. ‘Every woman has silver hairpins and earrings, no matter how poor they are, and bracelets and rings, if they are not starving.’ Women's associations at every level organized task forces and propaganda teams to shame those ‘who are still wearing the symbols of feudalism and bourgeois decadence’. In the end, they collected 220,000 ounces of silver.4
And then, just before she was dispatched to Gangxi County, a memo went out to all counties for 200,000 pairs of extra thick straw sandals and 100,000 rice pouches, to be delivered to the Red Army before 10 October. To her amazement, there was not much resistance; perhaps the peasants would do anything rather than enlist. Some women had written rhymes on pieces of paper and put them inside the sandals; one of them read: ‘With this pair of sandals, you will travel 10,000 li. No matter how high the mountains, and how deep the rivers, you will never stop on the road to revolution.’
Perhaps a big battle was coming. Otherwise, why did the Red Army need so many soldiers, so many pairs of shoes, and so much money and grain, and all for October? ‘That is it,’ she clapped her hands, giving the messenger a fright. ‘As Father would say, “The fish will either be caught in the net or they'll break it and sink the boat.” ’
It was early morning, 16 October, when she arrived back in Ruijin. She went straight to see Liu Ying, the Head of the Youth Department, who had sent for her. ‘You were quick. I didn't think you'd be back tonight,’ Liu said, handing her a towel to wipe the sweat off her face. The sisterly concern in Liu's voice assured her that her worst fears were unfounded. All the same, she offered her apologies for missing the deadline. ‘Don't worry, we're in the same boat.’ Liu patted her on the head. She did not fill her own quota. She was summoned back three days ago to choose six staff to go on a major operation. ‘So, there is a big operation,’ Wang cried out with joy. ‘Whether you can take part or not all depends on the check-up tomorrow morning. Report to the General Hospital at nine o'clock.’
She was in for a shock when she reached the hospital. People were running about, dismantling and packing up heavy medical equipment, or loading medicine into panniers on their shoulders. The wounded were groaning on their beds with no one to see to them, or being carted off on stretchers or helped to hobble away. ‘Why are we breaking the place up?’ she wondered. Wang, and the other 100 girls waiting for their check-up, only added to the chaos by chattering nervously and giggling, like a flock of sparrows that could not stop chirping.
The doctors drew blood with a needle, listened to her chest down a tube with a cold metal disc at the end, hit her knees with a wooden hammer, and then asked her to lift a 20-kilo sack over her head. All the time, her heart was beating so fast she thought she might be ill, though she had never been sick in her life. What really scared her was the big machine which they said could see her insides. Its Chinese name was pronounced Ai-ke-si, which meant ‘If you go near it, you die.’ It was a great relief to come out in one piece, and be told that she was strong as a horse, and they would take her. She should go and get her provisions now and then report to the Cadres’ Battalion of the General Health Department of the Central Column in the afternoon. What was the Central Column? She had no idea, but she knew where to go.
She must have been overjoyed to be one of only fifteen girls chosen out of the 100 at the hospital, and of thousands more who never got that far.
‘Why so few women? Why me? I have asked that question millions of times,’ Wang said. I waited for her to answer herself.
‘Perhaps they thought we would be a burden. But I was healthy and strong,’ she finally said, though still uncertainly. The truth may be different. All the top leaders of the Party and the Army had their wives with them on the Long March. They wanted an equal number of other women to come along. Wang was a Party member; she had always delivered whatever was expected of her, and more; and she was known for firing two pistols simultaneously, hitting the bull's-eye with both. What she did not know at the time was that the Red Army was about to abandon Jiangxi and set up a new base elsewhere.
At 5 o'clock sharp on the afternoon of 16 October, the bugle sounded, as the sky turned pink in the setting sun. Wang marched out of Ruijin with the General Health Unit. Now it was clear: the Central Column was essentially the government on the move, more than 10,000 people, including many Party officials from all levels of the Jiangxi Soviet administration. She wore the dark blue jacket she had received that day, with matching trousers tucked inside her socks, and a pair of new sandals. The pack on her back held a light quilt, one more pair of sandals, seven kilos of grain, and an enamel washbasin dangling on a strap. A hat made of double-layered bamboo covered the pack and would be useful in the autumn rain. Now she felt like a real soldier, ready for