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Daniel Hutchinson
I received another nice email from Val. It's always nice to hear from classmates.
Ferron and Gary, how are you guys going?
I was cleaning out some old files when I came across my old file with some short stories, I've written. I think most were posted here, but thought I'd repost a couple to see if anyone would enjoy seeiing some.
"An Historical item, which is not recorded in History Books.
As a young man serving in the U.S. Navy in Taiwan from early 1963 to mid-1964, I was posted to the Taiwan Defense Command (TDC). Shortly after arriving late one evening in Taipei, I was taken to a hostel in downtown Taipei. They had previously had a typhoon which flooded all of the low lying buildings in the city. The hostel had been flooded, with water marks about three feet up on all of the furniture; the beds had all been submerged. All of the varnish had been removed from the water line down. The rooms were clean, yet the hostel was old with rough cement floors. All we had was a room, with no facilities. Anytime we wanted to take a shower or use the bathroom, we had to go outside to a centrally located bathroom. The showers pipes were made of three quarter inch pipe bent with a goose neck curve to let the water fall on you, while standing on a wooden shipping pallet. The shower room had about eight of these rustic, yet functional showers arranged around the old dark ceramic tiled circular room. Anyone walking by in the garden could watch you take a shower. Often workers were in the garden, both old men and women sweeping the dirt, early when it was shower time. Very little attention was paid to the shower room, but the sense of not having privacy was unnerving. Arriving at 18 years old this was my first experience of culture shock (culture shock is a topic all of its own). The rooms were clean, with clean sheets and bedding but there was a lingering odor of musty damp cotton batting. If you’ve ever smelled what a damp quilt smells like, then you can amplify that by tenfold, and that was the prevailing smell, mixed with a moldy smell throughout the entire area where the rooms were located.
After a couple of days one of my fellow sailors, told me he had moved up to, ‘Yong Ming Shan’, or Grass Mountain. There were four hostels housing American G.I.s of all services in or near Taipei. Two were close to the TDC, where I was, another close to an Army facility deeper into the center of Taipei, and then Grass Mountain. The hostel on Grass Mountain was a dark gray granite building, with about three granite very sturdy nice buildings on a compound in a cluster. The building had been built originally as a Rest and Recuperation (R&R) facility for Japanese pilots during the Second World War. I went up that afternoon with my Navy buddy, with whom I’d gone through boot camp in San Diego, and Radio school in Norfolk, Virginia. There were three of us from the same original boot camp group, radio school who were assigned to Taipei. His name was Irving a kid from Omaha, Nebraska. A tall thin blond, of Scandinavian descent; he was a nice kid but a little naïve and nervous about being on his own. Irving (Irv) had arrived in Taiwan a few days before me, and had quickly moved up to Grass Mountain. I went with him to check out the hostel, and liked the somewhat cooler air, the more opulent and rustic look. I went back to town about 3-1/2 miles down a winding road, to collect my sea-bag, and moved up to Yong-Ming-Shan. When I arrived a little old Chinaman came shuffling out to the taxi, shuffling almost sideways. He looked old, perhaps in his 80’s. He was introduced to me as ‘Papa-son’, a common term for older Chinese gentleman, but because he was possibly the oldest of all the Chinese workers at the Hostel, he had the exclusive title of Papa-Son. He immediately bent down to pick up my sea-bag, at which I protested, wanting to take the bag myself. I couldn’t allow myself to be disrespectful to this old man. There were a couple more G.I.’s out in the portico entrance who all said “oh let him take it, he’s much stronger than he looks”, so reluctantly I let the old man take the sea-bag. He bent in a feeble way, grabbed the canvas handle, and with ease threw the 60 plus pound sea bag over his shoulder, then shuffled off to the room I was assigned. It was up two flights of stairs, and only a couple doors down the hall from the stair well. As time went on, I developed a bond with that old man, and could tell he liked this young “round-eye”, as they called anyone who didn’t have the slanted oriental eyes.
Recent historical events in Taiwan interested me greatly. Most of the governing class were mainland Chinese refugees. History accounts tell of how the Chinese communists and the Nationalist fought for control of China for several years. The Communists were led by the well-known Mao-Zedong (Chairman Mao), and the Nationalist leader by Chang-Kai-shek, whose wife actually started the Nationalist People’s Party. Madame Chang had a huge influence in Chinese politics, and was the one who helped launch Chang-Kai-Shek’s political career. There are volumes of interesting information about Madame Chang, but for now, I will relate an interesting twist to how history has recorded our long association with Chang-Kai-shek and the Nationalist Chinese. Most in America were influenced in the news to the virtues of Chang, and his Nationalist cause. Chang was portrayed as a kindly patriotic, hard fighting general, who had endured much, thus was deserving of our total and unfailing support.
Most historians have recorded how the Communists having gained the upper hand in their struggle for control of the mainland, resulting in the Nationalists being driven from the country. Historical records show Chang-Kai-Shek going directly to Taiwan in 1949. While serving in Taiwan and making some Chinese refugee friends, I was told a different story. I was told that Chang along with several hundred thousand refugees first went to the Japanese island of Okinawa in 1947. They used to call Chang, the General Ellisimo. He announced that he would be establishing his Nationalist Chinese Government in exile, to which the Okinawans said “Oh no you’re not”! Chang then took his people to the Island of Taiwan (formerly Formosa). Chang had a very kindly appearance, like the benevolent uncle. He changed from his strict military posture, with a softer approach telling the Taiwanese he wanted to establish his government in exile, inviting anyone who objected to step forward and make their voices heard. When they did, he simply had them eliminated. The university in Taiwan was filled to capacity with Taiwanese students. To make room for his Chinese youth of college age, he took the Taiwanese students out in front of the university, lined them up in front of a wall and had them shot. In 1963, they still had the bullet holes in the wall in the front of the university campus, I saw them.
You see, history isn’t always what it appears. I’m not making a political statement here, just relating what was told to me first hand from a witness to these events, by one of the Chinese refugees who worked at the hostel where I lived.
There is a lot more amplifying detail to this, but will finish this, with a comment of how kindly Chang and his wife appeared. Through our compound on Grass Mountain where the hostel was nestled, the parking lot in front also served as a narrow passage to a upper-class housing development just past a small park, and swimming pool, next to the hostel. Chang and his wife had their home in that development. On more than one occasion, they would drive through the compound in their chauffer driven black limousine. Those days they didn’t have the blacked out windows, and on more than one occasion, both the General Ellisimo and his wife would wave at me. I felt exhilarated that such a powerful couple would acknowledge this young American sailor, standing alone in front of an old regal Japanese retreat.
Dan"
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