I arrived in Chungking in the spring of 1942. Having never been there before, I had no time to experience the local customs and culture of this wartime capital before I was caught in an air raid siren. After the all-clear, I immediately went to the embassy to report for duty. The ambassador inquired about the breakout from Hong Kong and congratulated me on my promotion to Commander, effective January 1, 1942. I suggested to him that the King should award Admiral Chan Chak a medal and title in recognition of his contribution to saving British soldiers. In truth, I only wanted to use some scholarly connections to improve the increasingly deteriorating relations between China and Britain.
Later, all these suggestions were indeed implemented. Chan Chak was awarded the title of KBE (Knight of the British Empire), Tsui Hang was awarded the title of OBE (Honorary Officer of the British Empire), and the British government even specially sent technicians from India to China to install a new prosthetic limb for Chan Chak.
Strangely enough, at the same time I was promoted to Commander, the London headquarters sent me my new uniform, signed as a gift from Mr. M. Huh? How did he know my size? In any case, this finally solved my predicament, because I had fled from Shanghai and Hong Kong to Chungking, and even gave away the last uniform I wore to Uncle Chak. Now I was like a beggar. In Chungking, inland, I couldn't find a place to order a custom-made uniform. It wasn't that there were no tailors, but that there was a lack of materials. Just those three gold stripes on the sleeves were hard to come by here.
My first appearance in the uniform of a naval commander was as an attendant to Chiang Kai-shek and his wife on their visit to India. Due to the urgency of the situation and the inconvenience caused by the war, the higher-ups felt it was unnecessary to send military attachés from overseas to China, and that I could simply take on the role concurrently. My rank as a naval commander was neither too high nor too low, which was sufficient for the role of an attendant. Moreover, I was an old acquaintance of Chiang Kai-shek and Soong Mei-ling, so arranging the reception would certainly be easier for me than for others.
Chiang Kai-shek's visit to India was related to China's declaration of war against Japan on December 9, 1941, following Britain and the United States. Having become an Allied power, it was reasonable for the leaders of both sides to conduct an official visit to demonstrate goodwill—this was the idea of the Governor-General of India, Victor Alexander John Hope. However, the matter was not so simple. During my first coordination meeting with Chinese officials, although I was merely a lowly military attaché, I felt compelled to raise an important question: was Chiang Kai-shek actually visiting India as a head of state?
"Of course! Is there any doubt about that?" all the officials present said.
"No, your country's president is Lin Sen, and Chiang Kai-shek is the chairman of the Military Commission. Therefore, if he visits India as chairman, his rank would be lower than that of the governor-general, because although the governor-general is subject to the British monarch, he is essentially the sovereign of India." I explained, "Of course, your country's system and official titles are different from ours, so we cannot make a complete comparison. As long as your country recognizes Chairman Chiang Kai-shek as the head of state, we can follow suit, and the reception ceremony will be of the same standard as that for the governor-general, so as not to cause any problem of different ranks."
The officials present nodded in agreement, already quite satisfied with being able to achieve parity with the British Empire, and repeatedly thanked me for my reminder. Actually, I had played a dirty trick. Chiang Kai-shek also held the title of "Supreme Commander of the China Theater," overseeing Burma and Thailand. If he visited India under this title, his rank would be higher than the Governor-General, creating an imbalance in the welcoming ceremony. To avoid them bringing it up themselves, I had to preemptively strike and use a strategic retreat to defuse the impasse.
This was one of the few overseas visits Chiang Kai-shek made in his life, and it was to a superpower like Britain. This made Chiang somewhat arrogant, believing he truly possessed such influence. One day, he even proposed visiting Gandhi. I immediately knew the situation was serious and quickly reported it to the Governor-General. The Governor-General immediately objected, but this was clearly a diplomatic impasse. Chiang Kai-shek was a state guest, and it was difficult to refuse his request. However, Gandhi was the leader of the non-cooperation movement and was being imprisoned by the Governor-General's office for opposing Indian participation in the war. How could Chiang Kai-shek visit a criminal in prison?
The final agreement was that the Governor-General's Office would send Gandhi to Calcutta to meet with Chiang Kai-shek. Chiang, citing the need for a united front against Japan, persuaded Gandhi not to oppose Indian troops' participation in the war, while also expressing support for India's post-war independence. Gandhi, based on his anti-war stance, remained noncommittal. During the photography session, to avoid being implied as endorsing Chiang, all British officials stepped aside. Chiang even telegraphed US President Roosevelt after returning home, expressing the same view. Churchill was furious upon learning this, and from then on, relations between China and Britain deteriorated throughout World War II, naturally impacting my work significantly.
Chiang Kai-shek's title of "Supreme Commander of the China Theater" was a special product of the Allied geopolitical strategy against the Axis powers during World War II. It was not obtained based on his own strength and could only be used as a ceremonial decoration without any real influence. Chiang Kai-shek misjudged this point and brought shame upon himself. The Cairo Conference two years later would prove this point once again.
(Figure 5-3-3) The ceremony for the donation of warships by Britain and the United States held on the Yangtze River in Chungking in March 1942. France also had a gunboat called the "Balny" in Chungking, which the Nationalist government hoped to take over. However, because France was part of the Axis powers under the Vichy government at the time, the situation was somewhat complicated. It wasn't until September 1944, when de Gaulle liberated Paris and took power, that the "Balny" was handed over to the Nationalist government and renamed the "Faku". This British and American ship donation ceremony was a major event for the Chinese Navy, as it had played virtually no role in China's war of resistance against Japan and needed to use this ceremony to assert its presence. At that time, the Chinese Navy had lost almost all its ships, and the Navy Ministry had been abolished, leaving only the Naval Headquarters, which had been moved to Shantung in Chungking. Chen Shaokuan, who had been demoted from Minister to Commander-in-Chief, was only of ceremonial value. To save money, naval schools were also reorganized; for example, the M.C.S. School was closed and merged into the Tsingtao Naval School, which became the basis for the postwar struggle between the M.C.S. and Tsingtao factions against the Fookian faction. At that time, naval school graduates had no shipboard positions available; some joined mine-laying teams, some transferred to army artillery, and others scattered to find their own way, some even joining the Japanese-backed puppet regime.
Having discussed the navy, let's move on to shipping. Before the war, China's largest shipping company was the China Merchants Steam Navigation Company (C.M.S.N.C.). When the war broke out and the Japanese army occupied the lower reaches of the Yangtze River, the company's riverboats were concentrated in Chungking. However, due to insufficient water depth upstream, large riverboats could not operate and were left stranded on the riverbanks awaiting changes in the situation. Many were repaired and resumed operation after the war. During the war, the main operating force became Lu Zuofu's Minsheng Shipping Company, because Minsheng's ships were originally built for the special environment of the Yangtze River. The opportunities presented by the War of Resistance against Japan made Minsheng the largest private shipping company in China.
C.M.S.N.C.'s seagoing vessel and headquarters were moved to Hong Kong. Due to the blockade of the coastline, these ships were no longer needed and were sold off in Hong Kong. In late 1941, the Japanese army attacked Hong Kong. General Manager Cai Zengji claimed that the books and assets had been destroyed in the war and fled to the United States, refusing to report to Chungking. This clearly indicated that he had embezzled all of the C.M.S.N.C.'s assets, thus ending the existence of this first joint-stock company in China, established in the late Ch'ing Dynasty. Later, in 1943, the Nationalist government renamed the Yangtze River Business Management Office of the Ministry of Communications as the "State-owned China Merchants Steam Navigation Company." This is the origin of the post-war C.M.S.N.C., and it has no direct lineage from the C.M.S.N.C. established in the Ch'ing Dynasty. Since Lu Zuofu also served as the Vice Minister of Communications in charge of shipping, the new C.M.S.N.C. fell under his jurisdiction.
Having discussed the navy and shipping, let's move on to the air force. The greatest threat to Chungking from the Japanese was air raids. Due to the heavy losses suffered by the Chinese air force at the time, it had retreated to Chengdu and even Kunming for rest and reorganization, and its anti-aircraft artillery was also insufficient. The airspace over Chungking was practically undefended. Because I served concurrently as the air force attaché at the embassy, I had the opportunity to learn about Chungking's air defense deployment.
At the time, the Japanese planes bombing Chungking all took off from Wuhan Airport. Due to the long distance and the slow speed of the bombers, the Nationalist government had an opportunity to issue early warnings. The air defense alarm system was designed so that as soon as the Japanese bombers took off from Wuhan Airport, spies lurking near the airport would send the information via wired telephone to the Chungking Air Defense Command. Because there were surveillance posts along the route from Wuhan to Chungking, the Air Defense Command could track the flight path, speed, and size of the Japanese aircraft, and issue air raid warnings in advance. This provided at least an hour of warning time, which was a very practical method for the Nationalist government, which lacked high-tech equipment.
In addition to the hand-cranked sirens of the sound system, air raid sirens also included a visual system called the "Berham Ball." Based on the meteorological bureau's concept of using black wind balls to indicate wind force, the Air Defense Command invented a system of hanging red lantern-shaped balls. One ball indicated that a Japanese aircraft had taken off from Wuhan Airport, two balls indicated that it had entered Sichuan Province, and three balls indicated that it had reached Chungking airspace. The "Berham Ball" was named after Hu Borham, the then deputy commander of the Chungking Air Defense Command.
When air raid sirens sounded, citizens were required to take shelter in designated air-raid shelters. Chungking, being mountainous, had the potential to construct large air-raid shelters. However, large air-raid shelters accommodating many people could also cause serious public safety problems if poorly equipped or mismanaged. On June 5, 1941, the year before I arrived in Chungking, a horrific tragedy occurred where thousands suffocated to death because the air raid lasted too long and the administrators prevented people from coming out for fresh air.
(Figure 5-3-6) Chungking Chaotianmen Wharf.
Chungking is often foggy, with only clear skies from May to October each year, so air raids are mostly concentrated during this period. It is said that whenever Japanese planes raid, Japanese spies on the ground would use reflective mirrors or other markings to guide the Japanese planes to their bombing targets. Herbert O. Yardley, an American code-breaking consultant hired by the Nationalist government, mentioned this in his book "The Chinese Black Chamber," but I personally have not read it. Perhaps because when I was in Chungking, Japan's focus had shifted to Southeast Asia, and its air force was gradually being redeployed from the Chinese battlefield. Moreover, the Japanese military assessed that bombing Chungking would not be very effective, so they greatly reduced the frequency of air raids.
Chungking, the so-called "wartime capital," served as the temporary capital of the Nationalist government after the fall of Nanking. Located in Sichuan Province, Chungking's strategically important and isolated location made it extremely difficult for the Japanese army to attack by land or river. Air raids were the only viable option, but they couldn't guarantee a decisive victory. Furthermore, Chungking's frequent fog and lack of clear skies significantly hampered the effectiveness of air raids. In addition, Sichuan's abundant resources provided sufficient support for a protracted war of resistance, making it well-suited to serve as a wartime capital.
Chungking is a mountainous city with significant elevation changes. For example, to get from Chaotianmen Wharf to the city center, you have to climb a steep staircase with many steps, which always leaves me breathless. There are actually sedan chairs (simple palanquins) there; you can pay to be carried up, but I felt embarrassed to ride in them, especially when I was wearing my military uniform. Most people arriving in Chungking by boat from other places disembark at Chaotianmen Wharf, and this "sky ladder" is the only way to get there.
In contrast to Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist government in Chungking, the regime established in Nanking in March 1940 by Wang Kingwei, the former vice chairman of the Kuomintang, was an anomaly. The Wang regime retained the original Republic of China's flag, national anthem, national name, five-power constitution, and Kuomintang central party headquarters, clearly demonstrating its ambition to legitimize the regime. However, it was widely known that it was a puppet regime established with the help of the Japanese, much like the Vichy government in France. In the context of World War II's confrontation between the Allied and Axis powers, Britain, the United States, and other countries had no choice but to maintain relations with Chiang Kai-shek's regime and keep their embassies in Chungking.
Since Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist government was an ally of the Allied powers, in order to show goodwill, Britain and the United States announced in early 1943 the abolition of the "unequal treaties" and the signing of new treaties. The donation of warships was also carried out in this atmosphere. However, these actions were more symbolic than substantive, because the concessions were already under Japanese control at the time. Nevertheless, the actions of Britain and the United States put pressure on Japan. In order to compete, Japan also announced that it would give up its concessions and return them to the Nanking government. As for the French concession in Shanghai, since the Vichy regime was an ally, it was inconvenient to make a decision for it. Therefore, through pressure from Germany, France also gave up its concessions and returned them to the Nanking government in July 1943 to establish a special zone. From then on, all foreign concessions in China disappeared in name, but the influence of the powerful continued to exist in various ways.
He spoke with great enthusiasm, but I listened with a chill running down my spine. Clearly, he was completely inexperienced in intelligence work and knew nothing about Tai Li. This matter was probably not as simple as he thought. Sure enough, within just over a month, the conflict between the two sides had spiraled out of control. It was then that the embassy approached me for assistance, promising to appoint me as the future director of the Sino-British Cooperation Institute. However, by then, Tai Li had already reported this to Chiang Kai-shek, who, in a fit of rage, ordered its cancellation. On April 29th, all British personnel withdrew to India, and I lost my position as director. Even after the Sino-British intelligence cooperation failed, the British remained undeterred and soon made a new proposal, this time focusing on deciphering Japanese military coded messages. Having accurately grasped intelligence on events such as the Pearl Harbor attack, the British military was impressed by China's telecommunications monitoring capabilities and hoped that China could send a team of experts to Calcutta, India, to assist the British in detecting Japanese air force communications in Burma. However, this matter also fell under Tai Li's control, who adopted a non-cooperative attitude and obstructed the process at every turn.
(Figure 5-3-7) The War of Resistance against Japan caused a large number of people from other places to migrate to Sichuan, which also allowed many Japanese spies to infiltrate the area.
I know that Tai Li was able to decipher the codes of the Japanese Navy and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs by plagiarizing our "Deep Purple". However, the news that the "Prince of Wales" and "HMS Repulse" were sunk in the Malayan Sea Battle was reported to the British by them, not by our own intelligence group. The reason is simple: our "Deep Purple" sank in the Whampoo River on December 8 with the "HMS Peterel", and the Malayan Sea Battle took place two days later on December 10. Therefore, Britain naturally had no source of intelligence, which allowed China to gain the limelight.
If "Deep Purple" and my crew were still alive, we wouldn't have needed to ask China for help. However, the reality was that "Deep Purple" was destroyed, and most of my crew members were out of contact, making it impossible to provide assistance to the British forces in India. We had no choice but to submit to Tai Li. In fact, if Britain could use China's surveillance capabilities to help maintain air superiority in South Asia, it would greatly benefit the security of China's newly opened "Hump" air route. At that time, the Burma Road had been blocked by the Japanese army, and the "Hump" over the Himalayas became the Chungking government's only external passage. However, Japanese aircraft stationed in Burma frequently threatened this route, so maintaining its safety and unimpeded flow was absolutely crucial for China's resistance against Japan. Later, I heard that it was only after Chiang Kai-shek spoke up that Tai Li actively pursued this matter, as he was completely obedient to Chiang.
In October of that year, a group of Chinese codebreakers were sent to Calcutta, India, to assist in detecting telegrams from the Japanese Air Force stationed in Burma. After more than a year, they reportedly achieved considerable success, issuing early warnings several times before Japanese aircraft attacked, allowing British fighter planes to take off early and engage them, resulting in excellent results. However, it is said that before his departure, Tai Li repeatedly instructed his team members to send any key intelligence directly back to Chungking and not to inform the British army.
The Deep Purple I developed played a crucial role in the Allied victory in World War II. As early as 1939, we sent the Deep Purple blueprints back to headquarters in London. At that time, the war in Europe had just broken out, and they immediately assembled a group of experts and scholars to establish a secret base in Bletchley Park, London, officially known as the Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ). They used my blueprints to replicate several Deep Purple units and began deciphering German codes. This work later expanded to several thousand people and was remarkably effective; however, without the Deep Purple's help, even if they had deciphered them, they would likely be outdated and useless intelligence! But until recently, the Bletchley Park project remained top secret, and the British government never acknowledged its existence!
Originally, I was supposed to go to Calcutta with the Chinese codebreakers, but headquarters called to stop me and told me to stay in China because Captain Milton E. Miles, who had served as the head of the Far East Section of the Office of Strategic Services, was going to arrive in Chungking in May. I was ordered to find out what Tai Li and Miles were secretly planning.
Upon Miles's arrival, Dai Li eagerly took him on a trip behind enemy lines. Dai Li was shrewd in this regard; he wanted to demonstrate to his new American friend his ability to control the vast landmass behind enemy lines. Miles was astonished to see Tai Li penetrate deep into enemy territory with ease, a stark contrast to his previous impressions. From then on, he had unwavering faith in the Military Intelligence Bureau's capabilities, and aid from the US Navy continued to pour in.
Americans are easily deceived, but Tai Li's methods couldn't fool me. Due to insufficient manpower, the Japanese army couldn't be widely deployed in the vast Chinese interior. They could only choose important cities and transportation routes to hold their positions, and then send troops to clear out rural areas. Therefore, as long as one knew the deployment and mobilization time of the Japanese army, one could go directly from Chungking to Shanghai. Because I was assigned to return to Shanghai to infiltrate, I did some research. Therefore, I deduced that he must have an inside source in the high command of the Japanese army, who could obtain intelligence on the deployment of the Japanese army throughout South China. However, at that time, I didn't know the source of his intelligence.
My superiors wanted me to find out what Dai Li and Miles were up to. The best way was to follow them into the occupied territory. I went directly to Tai Li, and when he heard my purpose, he smiled and shook his head, saying, "I'm going behind enemy lines. That's very dangerous. The Japanese are carrying out a 'mopping-up' operation. If you're a foreigner standing among a group of Chinese, the enemy will recognize you immediately!"
(Figure 5-3-8) Lieutenant Colonel Doolittle of the U.S. Army Air Forces led B-25 light bombers to take off from an aircraft carrier to attack Japan. "With Lin San's guidance, I think there shouldn't be any major problems, right?" I casually uttered this question, and Tai Li raised his thick eyebrows, his face showing a slight expression as if he wanted to ask who the leaker was. I quickly added, "Don't be nervous, I've known that Lin San since before the war." After pausing for at least two or three minutes, Tai Li said helplessly, "You little rascal... you're something else, alright!" Although there were no threatening words in our conversation, I know the Chinese very well. This subtle approach was enough to put pressure on Tai Li without making him lose face, unlike the more direct approach of Westerners. "You even dared to bring Captain Miles along? He looks more like a foreigner than I do!" I stood up to take my leave, leaving Tai Li dumbfounded and sulking. That's true, when was he ever threatened before? I was exaggerating when I said I knew Lin San before the war. Tai Li knew I had many friends from all walks of life in China, and I also had dealings with Japanese intelligence. Given my connection to Huang Kinrong, Annie's godfather, it's possible I knew him. But it was Uncle Chak who revealed Lin San's situation to me. When I visited him in the hospital and told him about my difficulties, Uncle Chak, probably to thank me for saving his life, secretly pointed me in a certain direction. In fact, it was Uncle Chak who introduced Lin San to Tai Li, which explains why he knew the whole story so well. Lin San was a Taiwanese man who worked as an intelligence agent in the Japanese army's South China intelligence department. He was highly trusted by the Japanese, but he secretly relayed information to Chungking. This was done through Uncle Chak's company in Hong Kong, who then introduced him to Tai Li in Chungking. After Uncle Chak left Hong Kong, Lin San directly worked for Tai Li. Lin San was extremely capable. Because his Japanese boss trusted him completely, he could obtain any secrets from the high command of the Japanese army. Therefore, informing Tai Li of the Japanese army's movements was a trivial matter. However, with a little manipulation and embellishment by Tai Li, he completely fooled Miles. I have a deep impression of Lin San because this man, later known as Lin Dingli, became the owner of Taiwan's largest newspaper after 1949. I heard that after he left his position as head of the Taiwan station of the Intelligence Bureau in the 1950s, he used his connections to become the head of a newspaper controlled by the Intelligence Bureau. Somehow, this newspaper became his personal business. Due to the shortage of newsprint in Taiwan at the time, he co-published a "joint edition" with two other newspapers. This newspaper, later called "United Daily News," was once the largest newspaper in Taiwan in the 1980s and 1990s. However, by then, he had already sold his shares to Wang Yung-ching, Taiwan's richest businessman.
Before I was ordered to go to the occupied area with Tai Li, there was an episode. At that time, I was tired of staying in Chungking doing nothing, so I visited Chennault and expressed my desire to join his volunteer air force, which was then known as the "Flying Tigers".
Chennault smiled and said to me, "That's a job for young people. People our age have more important things waiting for us!"
"At our age?" I was momentarily stunned. "You mean us?"
I've always considered Chennault to be from the previous generation, and I never imagined that I myself would be almost thirty-five years old.
I arrived in China around the beginning of 1927, when I was only twenty years old. Fifteen years have passed in the blink of an eye. Although I have never felt like a middle-aged person, it is an undeniable fact. However, I am not resigned to this. I have never been a fighter pilot since graduating from flight school. Even my motherland did not want me when the air war against Germany was at its most critical. Now it seems that only in China can I have a chance.
Unable to resist my persistent requests, Chennault finally agreed to let me join his "Flying Tigers" as an individual. This excited me for many days. However, on July 4th of that year, the volunteer team was reorganized into the U.S. Army Tenth Air Force China Task Force. My status as a British officer was no longer suitable for me to remain in the regular U.S. combat forces, and the matter was dropped.
Our group departed from Chungking in mid-May. They used paint to disguise Miles as a Chinese man, and from a distance, he actually looked quite convincing. Miles even brought an American journalist with him. We headed towards the Fookian coast, using both vehicles and boats, and sometimes walking along country lanes. It was a pleasant journey, enjoying the scenery. But Tai Li didn't forget his purpose. Every now and then, he would create a tense atmosphere, but in the end, everything turned out alright. Obviously, this was all deliberately arranged. Of course, I wouldn't expose him, but I thought that if he retired from his position as head of intelligence after the war, he might do well as a director in Hollywood. My mission on this trip was to find out Miles's purpose in coming to China. This was not difficult. Based on the professional sensitivity of a naval officer, Miles expressed great interest in establishing meteorological observation points along the Chinese coast, because he thought that meteorological intelligence would be very important when the US military landed in China in the future. Although Tai Li was completely ignorant about the navy, he tried his best to achieve whatever Miles wanted. Tai Li himself wanted to use American aid to equip himself with an army outside the system, which later became the Loyal and Patriotic Army under the Sino-American Cooperative Organization. Interestingly, Tai Li, who knew absolutely nothing about the navy, developed an interest in it because of Miles. I once heard him say that if he had the chance to do it all over again, he would rather be a naval officer than the universally hated head of the secret service. In fact, he almost became the Commander-in-Chief of the Chinese Navy after the war. If it weren't for the plane crash in 1946, Kui Yungching would never have made it.
(Figure 5-3-10) Japanese planes bombed Pucheng, causing Miles, Tai Li and others to hurriedly flee to the rice paddies to hide. As planned, I left without saying goodbye upon arriving in Fookian, which greatly alarmed Tai Li. All his agents were mobilized to search for me. I don't believe he was concerned for my safety but rather afraid that I had revealed Lin San's identity to the Japanese. Later, I heard that he had given me a secret order to be killed and planned to frame the Japanese. Of course, this plan failed, otherwise I wouldn't be alive today. Although Tai Li was able to evade the enemy and puppet regime's search thanks to Lin San's intelligence, Japanese intelligence accidentally discovered Tai Li's whereabouts while tracking my movements, which led to the Japanese bombing of Pucheng. Tai Li and Miles fled their residence in a panic overnight and hid in the rice paddies. This incident made Dai Li resent me for a long time. My assessment of this operation behind enemy lines is that it was "full of loopholes," which is far below the professional standards expected of an intelligence officer. Since Shanghai is where I lived for over a decade, I have too many memories and a deep fascination with it. In contrast, Chungking suffocated me, creating an urge to return to Shanghai, which affected my judgment due to my emotions. Furthermore, our operation behind enemy lines was like entering an empty field, giving me a false sense of security and causing me to overlook the various dangers that lay ahead, even the possibility of being pursued from both sides.
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