Quzhuo, China… 1942…
Grace found herself lying in a meadow surrounded by willow trees by a stream. The grass beneath her was soft and welcoming, leaving her with a warmth that arose from her breast and spread all through her body. It seemed like a dream but for the sensation of the breeze that moved past the purple catkins of the willows to billow the skirt of her blue dress, making the printed white butterflies seem to flutter their wings. And the sound of the water gently rushing over the rocks on the stream bed was soothing; the dream-like place seemed to chase away her anxious fears.
“Xie Xie!”
A voice came from behind and above. She looked back to see the upside-down image of a peasant couple. The husband looked concerned and the wife looked sad, almost belying her bright words. She thought ‘how odd’ that they would be thanking her; a stranger in their land. The man shook his head and frowned, but not at her. The wife knelt down beside her and cradled her head. Grace noticed only then that the woman was great with child.
“WÇ’ zá i zhá¨li!”
The wife took a cloth from her tunic and wiped Grace’s brow. Grace felt safe and as peaceful as at any single time in her life; those times were few and far between, leaving her thankful for the moment. She found herself envious of the woman and the child she carried; a longing that would never be fulfilled by the absence in her own body. Even in that moment of peace, she found herself weeping. The woman pulled her close and kissed her forehead in blessing. She sighed deeply as she placed her hand just beneath Grace’s neck.
“ZÄo gÄo,” the wife said as she removed her hand; it was wet and stained dark red. Grace looked up into the woman’s eyes and saw that she had begun to cry. Grace tried to speak, but began coughing. The woman wiped her brow again and spoke softly,
“WÇ’ zá i zhá¨li… “
The woman seemed to wish Grace’s tears away while shedding her own. Grace went to speak again, and felt a pain in her chest. The sound of the willows waving in the breeze gave way to loud angry foreign sounds; strange almost mechanical roars overhead, leaving Grace fearful.
“Hépáng…"
The woman began to sing; it felt like a lullaby Grace had heard in a dream once as the woman's sweet voice and loving gaze felt more suited for a mother to her baby. The short seconds of fear gave way almost immediately to sustained peace as the woman cradled her gently. And her sight began to grow dim even as the darkness gave way to a bright light. She felt gentle hands lifting her and carrying her like a child as she heard the woman for the last time,
“Hépáng….”
The couple looked at the figure lying almost twisted on the soft grass. The silk of his parachute seemed to billow like a skirt. The husband knelt down and felt the neck of the young man. He pulled his hand away slowly, shaking his head sadly. He looked in the pockets, but found no identification; much like the other two bodies they had found only minutes before. He was almost too young, but then everyone was too young to fight and too old not to. The woman knelt down beside her husband and kissed the boy’s forehead in blessing, noting that the boy had the most peaceful eyes she had ever seen.
"Xie xie ni... Hépáng…"
In grateful memory of the sacrifice of the many who died on April 18, 1942 in the skies over Tokyo and in the grassy fields of China. Gratitude also to the brave people of China, who helped our pilots and crews to the horrific peril and loss of their own lives. And in memory of all the others who gave their lives in service to keep freedom alive around the world. My words pale in comparison to the prose of their lives; I can only say thank you. Memorial Day, May 27, 2013
author of The Rape of Nanking
Comments
Moving And Exquisitely Constructed
I must have read more poignant stories than this. None spring to mind, though - and I suspect they won't for a very long time.
beautiful, as always
for some reason, google translate couldnt turn it into English, but the feelings are there ....
hope this helps...
Mandarin isn't my best language but...
Xie xie = thanks
Xie Xie ni = thank you
Wo zai zheli = I am here
heping = peace
Drea, xie xie ni for a poignant, timely "gushi." :)
Let us remember this weekend...
That it's not about a race or picnics. This is a time to remember those who gave their "last full measure" to win our freedom. For me it's also been a time to honor my friends, family and compatriots who have gone on before!
Ole
We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!
Gender rights are the new civil rights!
Thank you,'Drea,
Ode to the fallen:
They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old,
Age shall not weary them nor the years condem,
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,
We will remember them.
LEST WE FORGET.
ALISON
It is my understanding that the Chinese suffered as much
... as the raiders did because they did wind up hiding and protecting the survivors the best they could and the Japs exacted their revenge for that.
The Japs are not a nice people, even to this day they will not apologize for the atrocities they committed. I do not believe there was a Nuremburg or equivalent for all these Japanese who to this day still do not regret what they did as occupiers of Chinese territory. Frankly the US should have salted the earth of that country.
Kim
Dedication...
...I added additional thanks to reflect your comment and the message I shared with you. Thank you!
Love, Andrea Lena
There Wasn't A Nuremberg
No, there wasn't a Nuremberg. But there was a Nagasaki. And a Hiroshima.
http://youtu.be/KoDEVKlaW_A
Wow...
another one for the file mom. Brava!!!
Wow!!! Look!!! It's a little...
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrat
P.S. Whilst there indeed was a Hiroshima and Nagasaki, there were 1000 Nanjings.
Thank You
Poignant, timely, beautiful, human.
Thank you,
It helps bring our day to day back into focus.
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and "atrocities".
It is difficult to envision the use of a weapon in war which exacts such a terrible toll as that offered by a nuclear weapon. Yes, I agree it takes much more malice aforethought to wantonly go in and essentially decimate a city one occupant at a time, but is many at one stroke any less of a disaster? It seems much more horrific to our senses to draw the process out. A part of that is due to the longevity of the process itself and the repeated opportunity to cease that destruction. That is what makes a terrorist. The opportunity to halt but the will to continue to take lives one, a few, or a portion of a city repeatedly, again and again and again without considering the possibility of halting.
A nuclear blast might exact the same toll but it does so in much less time allowing for only one decision and therefore although the outcome is the same our senses do not record the horror in so great a manner.
I was in charge of a weapon of such power much later in our years and wars. I thank God nearly every day that I never had to use it against other human beings. Yes, I would have at the time had I been called upon to do so and if called upon now would still do it... but... the reasons would be to save as many, if not more, human lives than those which I would be taking in those split seconds of devastation.
Many times it is fear which motivates us. Fear makes us do things we could otherwise not do and fear has made me thankful that I did not need to launch into such a destructive path. For the times I have killed (the kill or be killed syndrome), I have vivid memories which I will carry to my grave and perhaps beyond. I have nightmares. I have doubts. "What if" is a great game player.
The one thing for which I have been grateful in all my years has been this... I had the courage not to pull the trigger in many cases despite having had the courage to pull it in others. Will I ever know which was the better choice? I doubt it; but then I am not the one for whom that choice mattered. It is what those who died or lived at my hand would have or did make of their lives after that time that matters.
A sizable part of "memorial" is "memory"; and I have many of those... both good... and bad.
Memorial Day is a day to thank our good fortune and those who fought to allow us to keep it despite the effect upon their own lives.
From one vet to others.
Anesidora
Having been there myself.....
I can fully understand how you feel. I have the added aspect to some of my nightmares that I helped to design some of the weapons I later employed, so not only do I have to live with the memories of what they did, but also with the thought that it was my design. I unfortunately was very good at what I did, and built the better mouse trap as the saying goes. Nothing like a more efficient and reliable system to kill people.
I graduated from combat assignments into R&D thanks to a masters degree in Chemical Engineering, and much to my superiors pleasure, I had the experience and training to go into the field and be the first to deploy and field test new systems we designed.
The next time someone wants to discuss nuclear weapons, remind them that there are plenty of sub-nuclear systems that are just as horrifying. If you've never had the opportunity to see what a fuel/air weapon will do to an occupied emplacement or village, consider yourself lucky. I still wake up in the middle of the night with visions of that one, amongst others.
Our memories are what we carry to remind us of just how horrible we can be, or just how valiant and honorable we can be. If we're lucky, the scale balances the right way and we learn to live with the rest. I try to tell myself that the ends truly did justify the means, and intellectually I know it to be true - but in the dark of night when the memories and the nightmares set in, some times it's hard to be sure. I completely understand how Robert Oppenheimer must have felt, and I often wonder if Harry Truman had nightmares about his decision to drop the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
In the end, we can only hope that the decisions that we made were the right ones. I think that mine were - and I pray to God every night that he agrees with me.
Dallas
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
Do Me A Favour
The next time someone wants to discuss nuclear weapons
Do me a favour, read the post I was responding to. Erin wants to keep this a friendly site, and I agree with her. But there wasn't much love in those words.
Ummm...
this little tale is so faaaaaaaaaahhhhhhkn elegant that I must compliment you again!!! So there!!! Take that!!
The same Irish...
Brrrrrrrrrrrratt