Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society (26 page)

21

Rescue Plans

I stopped going to school, went into hiding, and helped Grandma Wu behind the closed doors of the Martial Arts Academy. I was told never to show my face at the window. The result was that I lived in a state of high anxiety, dreading the sound of any footsteps coming up the driveway and fearing every knock on the door. The worst part was not being able to leave the house to go outside, not even for a minute.

I showed David the photo of Ah Yee, and he was able to recognize her at the market on Saturday morning. She brought him ominous news. Niang had persuaded my father to file a missing person’s report at the police station regarding my disappearance.

When I heard this, I was so scared that I begged Grandma Wu to let me cover all the windows in
my bedroom. She gave me some scraps of fabric which the boys and I stitched crookedly together. Sam and I stood on David’s and Marat’s backs and tacked these ‘blinds’ permanently to the windows, leaving my room in total darkness day and night.

Meanwhile, we were unable to establish contact with Big Aunt, Grandma Liu or anyone else at Nan Tian. Train services from Shanghai to both Chuchow and Linhai had both been halted and mail sent through the post office was returned marked ‘undeliverable’. We sent numerous letters by pigeon, but received no response.

On Sunday, Marat came back from Bridge House with reports from Ivanov.

‘Ivanov says you must hurry if you want to rescue them,’ Marat told us. ‘They’ve been tortured and are in terrible shape. Because of bad hygiene and lack of food, all eight airmen are seriously ill. They’re also going crazy, sitting cross-legged on the floor in their filthy cell with nothing to do day after day. Their faces, hands and legs are swollen and red from bug and rat bites. The pilot Dean Hallmark can’t even stand. His copilot, Robert Meder, is semi-conscious and close to death. Yesterday, Ivanov’s overseer, Sergeant Sotojiro Tatsuta, ordered Hallmark, Farrow and Spatz to sign their names on blank sheets of paper. Later, the Kempeitei inserted false statements in
Japanese above their signatures, claiming these were “confessions” made by the airmen. Since the “statements” have never been translated into English, the Americans have no idea what they’ve signed.’

Grandma Wu and I looked at one another in dismay. ‘This is terrible! You must hurry, CC, and come up with a plan for their rescue before they die out like flies!’ She turned back to Marat, ‘Is the news all bad?’

‘No, I have good news too! Ivanov said that Yonoshita loves the vegetables and fruits I’ve been bringing every week. The string beans were such a big hit that he’s agreed to Ivanov’s request to start a vegetable garden, with help from the prisoners!’

‘How fantastic!’ I beamed.

‘Marat, please congratulate Ivanov on my behalf for getting gardening privileges for the airmen,’ Grandma Wu said. ‘For the time being, gardening will at least get the Americans out of their cell and give them a little sorely needed exercise.’

For the next few days, with no school to go to, I sat under a small lamp in my darkened bedroom, scrutinizing Ivanov’s diagram of the Americans’ cell hour after hour. I felt a heavy sense of responsibility, but was proud to be entrusted with this important task. Looking at a large map of Shanghai
borrowed from the boys’ school library, I saw that Bridge House was only half a mile away from the Bund (Embankment) and the Huang Pu River. The dangers were great, but after tussling with the problem for a long time I finally figured out a plan that might work.

I asked Grandma Wu to call a special meeting.

The next evening, after dinner, we gathered in the same alcove where I had been initiated into the Dragon Society of Wandering Knights. I was touched to see that Grandma Wu had covered all the windows with floor-to-ceiling drapes. Instead of a candlelit ceremony, Grandma Wu ordered us to close all the curtains and turn on the lights, one of which was focused on the scroll with the two large Chinese characters:
Fu Dao
(Tao of Buddha). A round table and five chairs were placed in the middle of the alcove. She then spread Ivanov’s diagram and the map of Shanghai in front of us on the table.

‘Lock all doors and ignore the doorbell while our meeting is in progress,’ she said. ‘Don’t answer the telephone. We need to concentrate and vote on CC’s plan this very evening.’

Then she pointed to the
Fu Dao
scroll behind her head and said solemnly, ‘Every mission undertaken by members of our society will be carried out in strict accordance with the Tao of Buddha.
We will never act out of vengeance or cruelty. Nor will we ever do anything against our conscience. CC, you may begin.’

Everyone’s eyes turned to me. My mouth felt dry and my heart was pounding.

‘My plan is based on Ivanov’s diagram of Bridge House and his latest information,’ I began. ‘The American fliers are imprisoned in a single cell with steel bars on its window and door. Ivanov has developed an excellent relationship with the American prisoners, as well as with Major General Yonoshita. He has persuaded Yonoshita to plant a vegetable garden within the existing yard, using prison labour.’

‘Last Sunday I saw American and Chinese prisoners working in the garden,’ reported Marat, ‘digging and putting up lattice supports. To prevent vendors seeing the prisoners’ wretched condition, Yonoshita has given permission for gardening supplies to be dropped over the prison wall. And it looked as though the prisoners were working by themselves without supervision.’

‘Great! That’s exactly what I was hoping for,’ I continued. ‘I propose that we hide hacksaw blades inside hollow bamboo tubes and throw them over the prison wall with the rest of the gardening supplies. I never forgot the story Sam told me of his friend, Hans.’

‘He’s the one who sawed through steel bars and escaped from the train to Auschwitz,’ said Sam.

‘I think I can guess what you have in mind, CC,’ David smiled at me. ‘Ivanov should tell the Americans to use the blades to secretly saw through the steel bars of their cell window, right?’

I nodded and went on. ‘Lattices need ropes, and extra ropes could be hidden –’

I stopped at the sound of a key turning in the front door. Grandma Wu sprang up and rushed to the entrance hall with the rest of us closely behind. A weary figure with long hair and dusty clothes staggered in. It was Master Wu!

He was thin and exhausted. As Grandma Wu greeted him and they embraced one another, he burst into sobs.

‘What is it, my son?’

‘All is lost! All is lost!’ he groaned incoherently.

At first it was shocking to witness his tears. We looked at one another, unsure of what to do. Then I felt a sharp pain in my chest, indicating something nameless and unbearable. I knew it would be dreadful, but I had to find out.

I ran forwards to confront my worst fear head on. I stood directly in front of Master Wu and asked, ‘Where is my aunt?’

He stared at me with tear-filled eyes and slowly shook his head. Then I said the terrible words that
he could not bring himself to utter. ‘She is dead, isn’t she?’

This time he nodded.

For an instant I could see nothing but darkness. My whole being was filled with a deep sense of loss. My beloved aunt was dead. That’s all I knew. A surge of despair overwhelmed me. Big Aunt had been the centre of my universe. Now there was no one. Everything was empty.

Grandma Wu put her arm around me and led me to a chair. I buried my face in her lap and sobbed like a baby, letting go of the anguish that flooded my heart. My desolation was profound, as if a part of me had been severed. ‘Tell us what happened,’ she said to her son. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve unburdened yourself. Sharing your distress will lessen your sorrow.’

Master Wu collapsed at our feet with a groan, and the three boys sat on the floor beside him. ‘After you left, a squadron of Japanese soldiers came to Nan Tian looking for the American fliers,’ he said. ‘They salvaged part of the B25 bomber that had crashed into the ocean and took it away to Japan for exhibitions around the country. Tokyo’s leading newspaper,
Asahi Shimbu
, published photos of its torn metal wing and twisted landing-gear tubing to prove to the Japanese people that American planes had been destroyed.

‘We thought everything would go back to normal after that. But a week later, there was a suspicious forest fire. The Japanese had probably set it deliberately to “smoke out” any American airmen who might be hiding there. I went looking for Mei Mei, my panda, when the fire died down, and found her hiding on the top branch of a tall tree. She was alone. Her legs were charred and she was very frightened.’

‘What did you do then?’ David asked.

‘Grandma Liu was still very ill, so I told Big Aunt to stay and look after her while I took my panda back to Sichuan province. There I released her in the bamboo forests of Wolong, where she was born. I was away for a total often days.’

He hesitated and his eyes filled again with tears. ‘I should have suspected something was terribly wrong, because I couldn’t get through by phone, or buy a bus ticket from Sichuan to Yong Quan. On my way back by truck, foot and donkey, villagers along the coast on the mainland warned me to keep away from Nan Tian Island. Regular ferry crossings to the island had all been cancelled. No boatman would take me.

‘I finally hired a small sampan and sailed to Nan Tian alone at night. When I landed, a scene of unimaginable horror greeted my eyes. I saw bodies of men, women and children piled up and
strewn about the beach. Blood everywhere. The place reeked of death and destruction. There were no other boats in the harbour. Grandma Liu’s village had become an inferno. All the houses had been burnt and smoke was still rising from their charred foundations…’

‘Big Aunt!’ I interrupted in a hollow voice. ‘How did she die? Where did you find her?’

Master Wu ignored my questions. ‘As I was surveying the scene in horror and disbelief,’ he continued, ‘I heard someone calling my name. It was Li Cha.’

‘So Li Cha is still alive!’ David exclaimed.

‘Yes! He was one of the very few who survived. But he looked haggard and gaunt. Li Cha’s father, old Mr Li, was the school principal and owned the hut on the beach that gave shelter to you and the Americans. Li Cha said that four days after I left, a whole division of Japanese troops arrived in gunboats seeking revenge. At first they made an announcement in the village square for the people to surrender any hidden American fliers.

‘When no one came forth, they became angry. The soldiers kicked doors open at random and terrorized the population. One or two of the fishermen must have squealed under torture because the soldiers headed straight for old Mr Li’s house. There they found some of the gifts that Lawson
and his crew had left behind for the children.

‘They arrested the old man, wrapped him in a blanket, doused it with kerosene and ordered Li Cha’s mother to set it aflame. When she refused, they bayoneted her and threw her body into a well.

‘Li Cha had gone to warn Grandma Liu and Big Aunt. But it was impossible for Grandma Liu to run away. Big Aunt refused to leave without Grandma Liu, telling Li Cha that she was honour bound to stay with her
gan ma ma
((
godmother). Both Li Cha and Grandma Liu begged her, but to no avail. They heard the footsteps and voices of Japanese soldiers approaching. Li Cha hurried out the back door at the last minute, threw himself into a dry ditch and crawled away.’

‘What about Big Aunt?’ I asked again.

‘Li Cha only knows that she and Grandma Liu are both dead, but not how. The Japanese ordered everyone who had helped the Americans to assemble themselves in a straight line on the beach. Some of the fishermen who had carried the fliers did so and were immediately mowed down by machine-gun fire. The soldiers then went from house to house, shooting and bayoneting everyone in sight for two days. On the morning of their departure, they set fire to the entire village. The flames spread from building to building until they burnt themselves out a few days later.

‘Li Cha escaped only because he knew a cave where he used to hide as a boy. He said the sky over Nan Tian was filled with so much black smoke that he could not see the sun during the day. He could smell the horrifying odour of burning flesh and hear the sound of the fire even from his cave, sizzling and crackling like a rushing wind from hell. When the Japanese finally departed, there were very few people still alive; only those who had secret hiding places. Most of the residents had either been killed directly or died in the fire.’