Remembering 1942

by Liu Zhenyun

  “That was fast.” I sat up.

  He waved before getting onto his bed, where he lay quietly. I thought everything was settled and that he was happily focused on the contents of the letter he’d write that night, when we suddenly heard him sob.

  “What’s wrong?” I went over to touch him.

  He started howling.

  “What’s the matter, Banzhang?” Everyone got up and crowded around.

  Forgetting his concerns about his image and the people around him, he shouted, “Fuck the political instructor!”

  “What happened?” We were stunned and puzzled.

  “It’s not right, Banfu!” he said between sobs.

  “What’s not right?”

  “The deputy company commander said I could join, but the political instructor told me I can’t.”

  “Did he say that?” I was taken aback.

  “And that’s not all. He also said I’ll be discharged. Just think, how can I go home and face people like this?”

  “Ai-ya!” I sucked in cold air. “That’s so unexpected.”

  He began to cry again.

  We were told to fall out. Everyone else in the squad walked out with their rifles, leaving the two of us in the room. By then he had stopped crying; he was squatting motionlessly on the bed, while I sighed to show my sympathy.

  “How do you think I’ve done since joining the squad?” he asked, his head down.

  “Pretty good.”

  “Do I get along with the comrades?”

  “You do.”

  “Have I said or done anything unbefitting my position?”

  “No.”

  “How was our squad’s performance?”

  “We did as well as any others, except for the grenade throwing and the shooting range.”

  “So why did the political instructor do this to me?”

  “I can’t even guess.”

  “He must have something against me.” He gnashed his teeth and stood up to pace again. His eyes began to glaze over.

  “Don’t let that bother you too much, Banzhang.”

  He continued to pace without replying before squatting down again with his hands around his head. “I’d rather die than go home like this.” He got to his feet and shouted at the window, “Fuck the political instructor!”

  “Someone could hear you.” I dragged him away from the window.

  “So what?” He gave me a fierce look. “I’d rather die anyway.”

  He didn’t calm down until that evening. We sat around trying to make him feel better shortly before lights-out.

  “You all go to sleep, all right?” He said.

  We thought he was still in a bad mood, so we went to our spots quietly. Even Wang Di was feeling sorry him and went back to his spot with a sigh, but he crawled over to Li’s spot after taking off his pants.

  “Here’s some candy for you, Banzhang.” He pushed his leftover candy into Li’s hands.

  The lights went out and we shut up. I stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. This was the worst night since I’d joined the army, worse than the night after Fatty was discharged. People kept tiptoeing out to use the toilet and everyone was tossing and turning until after midnight, when we dozed off. Soon, however, we were roused by the sound of a rifle being fired. It was loud and crisp, so startling us that we got up and looked around,

  “What was that? What just happened?”

  That was followed by the whistle for emergency fall-out. We raced outside, not bothering to get dressed properly.

  “What happened?” we asked each other.

  Someone said there were enemy spies while someone else guessed that one of the sentry guards must have discharged his rifle by accident. The company commander, who ran up with his pistol to calm the scene, panted as he told us someone had fired a shot at the political instructor. Chaos erupted before he finished and my heart skipped a beat, just as the deputy company commander ran up to say that the P.I. thought the person looked like Li Shangjin. He added that the shot hit the P.I. in the arm, but it was not a serious injury. We were told to line up and arm ourselves to catch Li and stop him from defecting, as we were only several hundred kilometers away from the border.

  Another commotion broke out as we lined up and loaded our rifles to go after Li. Since he was our squad leader, soldiers in other squads all gave us the eye, making us lower our heads. A jumble of thoughts ran through my head as I raced forward. I spotted our platoon leader up ahead, armed with a pistol, and went to ask him, “What’s going on, sir?”

  Wiping the sweat from his face, he shook his head and sighed. “He couldn’t take the test. But no one expected him to do this.”

  “It must have something to do with his party membership.”

  “He had no idea that the party branch had begun discussing his case and would admit him fairly soon.” He sighed again.

  “Then why was he called in for a talk? Why tell him he’d be discharged?”

  “It was just a test.” He shook his head again. “The P.I. said Li looked odd when he was left out last time, so he came up with this idea to test him. See what happened?”

  A loud buzz went off in my head.

  “Why couldn’t he use his head? This was clearly a test, because a basic training company doesn’t have the authority to discharge soldiers.”

  Another loud clap sounded in my head; I was on the verge of tears.

  “You were wronged, Banzhang, you were screwed.”

  We spread out to form a skirmish line after covering ten kilometers. The deputy company commander stationed us ten meters apart. Rifles in hand, we were to crawl forward on our stomachs on the cold ground to catch Li Shangjin. The deputy political instructor gave the order of no talking and no coughing. We must try to catch him alive, but we were allowed to fire and take him down if he ignored a warning or resisted arrest. Immediately the field was filled with the sound of bullets being pushing into rifle chambers.

  I did what the soldiers beside me did, but with a silent prayer:

  “Don’t run this way, Banzhang. Avoid the skirmish line.”

  The eastern sky was showing a fish-belly gray as it brightened up enough for me to see the other soldiers in the line. There was no sign of Li. So the deputy company commander called us back to the base for breakfast, after which we would search for him again. Our squad was given the task of checking every nettle bush, with me as the leader. We went about it in silence, even Wang Di, who only made one comment: “It’ll be a tragedy whether we find him or not.”

  I gave him a look to shut him up.

  We didn’t find him after searching all day.

  A skirmish line was formed again that night.

  Li remained at large for three days.

  News of his escape reached command headquarters, which issued an order that we must find him in three days or everyone, from the regiment, the battalion, and the company would be held responsible. It frightened everyone into action, including the political instructor, who joined the search with his bandaged arm.

  Another day went by and still no sign of Li.

  Lights were ablaze at company headquarters each night.

  Finally on the third day he was caught. We didn’t find him, however; he came out on his own with raised hands. Turned out he was hiding in a haystack by the river, not far from the base. He emerged from the stack and surrendered, bringing a collective sigh of relief and energizing us all. Covered in hay, he looked gaunt and sallow-faced, his army uniform in tatters. He was still wearing his collar and cap insignias, but they were snatched off the moment he was arrested. They took him to company headquarters for interrogation right away.

  “Why did you shoot the political instructor?” the deputy company commander asked an exhausted Li.

  “He hates me.”

  “How so?”

  “He blocked my party application.”

  They both went quiet, before the deputy company commander resumed questioning:

  “So you shot him
?”

  Li began to sob. “You told me I’d become a member when I rubbed your back in the bath, sir. But the political instructor said no. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate me?”

  The deputy company commander’s face turned red as he banged on his desk.

  “You’ve gone too far, Li Shangjin, and the nature of your problem has changed. You shot a political instructor. Were you going to defect after that? Why didn’t you?”

  “I never thought of defecting. I just wanted to kill myself in the river.”

  “What?” Unprepared for the answer, he looked at Li for a while before continuing, “Then why didn’t you?”

  “I, I thought about my father back home—”

  More silence.

  After the interrogation, the company commander told us to conduct an in-depth criticism of Li Shangjin. Standing before the soldiers, he said, “This is the same thing Lin Biao did. He plotted to kill Chairman Mao and Li Shangjin tried to kill the political instructor. Lin Biao was going to defect, so was Li Shangjin.”

  Li was taken to a small room by the pigpen after the meeting; Chief and I were sent to guard him. When we got there, the very spot where we’d worked hard to make the squad look better, he looked at us, both armed, with a sigh before walking into the room with his head down. A squad leader had become a despondent, demoralized prisoner. Everyone else slowly walked away, and finally there were just the three of us left.

  “Please find me something to eat, Banfu.” Li said. “I haven’t had much to eat for nearly a week.”

  I was reminded of the earlier days, when he shared his meat buns when I went to the boiler room during my guard shift. I took Chief to the side and said, “I don’t care what the rules say, Chief. I’m going to get him some food. You can report me if you want.”

  Chief’s face turned bright red as he snapped the bayonet off his rifle and handed it to me.

  “Put this in me if I do that again.”

  “Good. I trust you.” I nodded, before sneaking into the kitchen for a bowl of leftover noodles. The moment I stole back into the room, Li grabbed the bowl and began to stuff the noodles into his mouth with his hands. He got food all over his face and at some point even choked on the noodles to the point that he stretched his neck trying to breathe. I quickly went up to thump him on the back. Chief and I both were saddened by Li’s sorry state.

  Li sat against the wall that night while Chief and I sat outside.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Banzhang,” I said, but I realized he was fast asleep when I looked over.

  “Wake up, Banzhang,” Chief shouted.

  We couldn’t wake him no matter what we did, which brought tears to our eyes again.

  “I have an idea, Banfu.”

  “What is it?”

  “We let him go.”

  Stunned, I took a quick around us before covering his mouth with a hand.

  “Not so loud.”

  “We’ll let him go. What do you say?” Chief was whispering.

  “What for?”

  “He can run away.” He blinked.

  “Where can he run to?” I sighed. “Do you honestly expect him to cross the border?”

  Falling silent, he just kept sucking in air.

  “You’re a good pal, Chief.”

  The night passed amid Li’s snores.

  A prisoner transport arrived from division headquarters to pick up Li Shangjin the next morning. He was only half awake when he was pushed on board and didn’t even turn to look at us as he was driven away.

  Chief and I stood blankly in front of the room.

  “What’s that?” Chief shouted. Looking in the direction he was pointing, I spotted a piece of paper inside. We went in to pick it up. It was the photo of Li’s fiancée, a plump girl with thick braids, smiling back at us.

  8

  We heard, three days later, that Li was given a fifteen-year sentence.

  The news didn’t cause much of a stir at the company level, not after a thorough criticism was conducted over those three days. We were given a task and we all spoke up, taking our job seriously, just as before, when we had criticized Lin Biao. And the criticism was as comprehensive as the one against Lin Biao.

  Everyone was looking out for himself during the criticism sessions, doing their best so as not to affect their job assignments. Li was one of us, so our squad was considered the “worst-hit area,” which brought the political instructor and the company commander to our criticism sessions. Hesitant at first, we were soon vying with each other to come up with the most damning criticism, dredging up issues big and small, in Li’s daily life to create the image of a most despicable criminal. It seemed the more we said against Li the more distance we could put between him and us. Wang, who had been sympathetic to Li with his reference of a tragedy, was the first to speak up, clearly hoping to avoid any adverse affects on his job assignment. He even offered something analytical, saying that Li’s defection had its ideological roots in when he was disciplined for taking a bayonet home with him few years before. The P.I. nodded repeatedly in agreement. The others spoke up after Wang. Chief began to waver and sought me out during break and said with a red face,

  “I’m going to have to do it too, Banfu.”

  “Go ahead.” I gave him a look of contempt. “Did I tell you not to?”

  “It would look terrible if I was the only who didn’t.” His face was even redder now. “I have to put on a show.”

  So he did when the meeting resumed. Although he had said it was for show, he went into detail, saying that Li Shangjin was depraved, always carrying the picture of a woman. He kept looking at the picture, Chief added, even after he was arrested. The company commander and the political instructor pricked up their ears; that was too much for me so I cut in, “It was a photo of his fiancée.”

  “If that’s the case, then it was all right for him to look at it,” the political instructor said.

  “Of course he wouldn’t be looking at it now. The girl wouldn’t want him now that he’s in prison,” I added.

  Everyone laughed, but we all felt terrible, so the criticism session ended.

  Chief sought me out again at lunch.

  “I probably shouldn’t have done that, should I?”

  “What are you saying, Chief?” I was irritated. “Did I told you not to? Did you know you’d get me into trouble when you said that?”

  He covered his face with his hands and began to cry.

  We were cleared after criticizing Li Shangjin and our job prospects were unaffected; we all got to keep our original assignments. The soldiers would begin to leave for their assigned company after a meal of braised pork.

  Wang Di was the first to leave, in grand style; a Jeep was sent from army headquarters for him. No one in the squad had ever ridden in one of those before, so we all went out to watch him leave. He shook everyone’s hand without looking pleased, saying simply, “Come see me at headquarters.”

  The platoon leader, who had been writing a letter in the barracks, crumpled two sheets of paper and came out to see Wang off. Wang actually ignored him and didn’t shake his hand until the very end.

  “I’ve caused you a great deal of trouble over the past three months, sir. I know I should have done better to keep my status as a key cadre. Please come look up me whenever you’re in Dadian.”

  For some reason that turned the platoon leader’s face red.

  Wang walked up to me when the driver started the Jeep.

  “I’m off now, Banfu.”

  “So long, Wang Di.”

  He took me to the side and, with his eyes reddening, said, “Do you know what they want me to do there?”

  “Aren’t you going to be a clerk?”

  “I was assigned to be a clerk, but the driver told me just now that I’m there to wipe the butt of the army commander’s invalid father.”

  “Really!”

  “I was such a screw-up.” He sighed. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

&nbs
p; “Wang Di!” I held his hands, lost for words.

  “My grannie has been laid up for three years now, and I haven’t been able to care for her.”

  “No matter what, do your job well when you get there.”

  “You’re right, of course.” He nodded and sighed again. “Please don’t tell anyone, or they’ll laugh their heads off.”

  I gave him a vigorous nod.

  The Jeep went off with Wang Di on board, trailed by puffs of exhaust.

  The political instructor from the army farm was next to come pick up their new member. A stumpy, swarthy man from Henan, Chief’s superior sounded like a straight shooter. Chief, who had been in a funk over his job assignment, perked up when his political instructor gave him the good news. Having been a key cadre, Chief stood out among all the other soldiers assigned to the farm, so he was promoted as deputy squad leader even before reporting for duty. A blessing in disguise put him in a great mood, as he offered a cigarette to his superior while peppering the man with questions.

  “You don’t get many perks at the farm except for a fast track to party membership,” the man said with the cigarette in his mouth.

  Beside himself with joy, Chief nearly broke out in a dance, while the rest of us looked on with envy, as if growing vegetables were better than working at army headquarters.

  Chief cleared his throat a couple of times and, looking at us, said to his political instructor, “I’ll go wherever you tell me to, sir. I’ll do it even if it’s to take the comrades in the squad to feed pigs.”

  “We’ll talk about work when we get back,” The man laughed heartily.

  That afternoon, the future deputy squad leader, Chief, got on the truck that the farm used to transport sheep droppings and left in high spirits to grow vegetables.

  One by one, the other soldiers were picked up.

  I waited until everyone was gone before leaving with my pack on my back. Being assigned to a training unit, I did better than the others in the squad. The camp for my new unit was a ways off, and I had to board a train at a small military station to get there. The platoon leader, who had to take the train back to his old company, was my traveling companion. No longer acting like a platoon leader, he chatted away, but I wasn’t in the mood to join in the conversation.