In September 1947, I was put by my parents into a Chinese German High School in Guangzhou. The school had a six acres ground, its building backed onto a small river.  The main building consisted of the administration offices, class rooms, library, and a big cafeteria.  On its left and right wings were the boys and girls’ dormitory. The vast grounds in front of the school building were the fields for sports and military training.

In the Kuomintang regime all the high school students were subjected to military training.

A battalion captain was assigned by the government as dean in our dormitory, few soldiers were also assigned to guard the school.

Every day the bugler performed three times, I loved the sound of the bugle and the melody it recited; it heightened my spirit in the boring school life.  Everyday we had to perform line-up in formation, roll calls, hoist the national flag and listen to the principal’s speech.  As usual, the captain would follow up with a disciplinary speech giving us his reprimand by barking and showering to our faces.  When he saw us in flabby state, he would kick our knee caps, and occasionally he would kick the knee joint from the back of a student making him kneel down. Though boys were treated harshly, girls were not.

We all hated him so much that we decided to get even with him.

One evening, after the retire roll call, twenty of us visited his room which was located next to boys dormitory. We asked him intensively about his war stories to distract his attention, while other boys stole his shoestrings and leather waist belt, and then squeezed tooth paste into his shoes, but we left his pistol untouched.  When the job was done, we said good night and returned to our dormitory.

The event passed on quickly throughout the dormitories early the next morning. When the assemble bugle sounded, six hundred boys and girls lined up in formation with complete uniform and full spirit.   This time the captain was late, when he arrived his uniform was untidy and his shoes were missing the shoestrings.  He was deeply embarrassed.  That was the only morning none of us received the usual shouts and kicks. For the rest of the semester, the captain seemed to have loosen up relatively.

In the years of resistant war against Japanese, and the liberation
war against Koumintang, hundreds and thousands Chinese youth burdened
with the people’s persecution, they searched for a way to save our
people and our nation. Witnessed the Koumintang’s corruption, they
joined the Eighth Route Army. To the People the Communist Party had
promised equality, freedom and a strong China. Later, in October 1947,
the People’s Liberation Army announced the Three Main Rules and Eight Points. People thought highly about these rules.

Only a part of these rules were quoted in my book Song of the Azalea in Chapter 6 “Trust the Party”, p. 91-92.

Here is the complete version:

The Three Main Rules of Discipline
Obey orders in all your actions.
Do not take a single needle or strand of thread from the masses.
Turn in everything captured.

The Eight Points for Attention
Speak politely.
Pay fairly for what you buy.
Return everything you borrow.
Pay for anything you damage.
Do not hit or swear at people.
Do not damage crops.
Do not take liberties with women.
Do not mistreat captives.

“Do not take a needle and thread from people; pay fairly for what you
buy…” These were noble objectives. If the Communists truly lived by
these principles, there would be hope for China’s future.

I
was impressed by these rules. I thought that such an army could not be
defeated because it would be supported by its people. The Chinese
Communist Party possessed such an army would save our people and
successfully build a new China. Where there would be no corruption,
where justice could be established. People would enjoy equality and
freedom.

This is one of the main reasons I joined the
Communist. If everyone followed these rules, we would have a society
with justice.

It is very disappointed that these noble rules have not been carried out for many years.

My Chinese translation:
在
抗日戰爭， 解放戰爭時期，千千萬萬青年，背負著民族的苦難， 尋求解救人民的痛苦，尋求建立一個自由，富強，平等的新中國。為此那時他們加入共產黨，
參加共產黨的八路軍， 解放軍。國民黨的腐敗，已是有目共睹， 共產黨提出打倒國民黨，
建立一個自由，平等，富強的新中國；實是大快人心，一致擁護。加以在 一九四七年十月，更 由中国人民解放 军总部颁布 了 “ 三大 纪律八项注意
。如果真實執行，那中國就有希望了。在我的書 Song of the Azalea 中，我僅用了一部份， 其 完整 内容 如下：

三大 纪律 ：
1. 一切行 动听指挥；
2. 不拿群众一 针一线；
3. 一切 缴获要归公

八项注意 ：
1. 说话和气；
2. 买卖公平；
3. 借东西要还；
4. 损坏东西要赔偿；
5. 不打人骂人；
6. 不损坏庄稼；
7. 不调戏妇女；
8. 不虐待俘虏 。

[Chinese version from http://zh.wikipedia.org.]

這
個三大紀律，八項注意，使我佩服不巳， 這樣的黨，這樣的軍隊，完全能夠解放中國，解救中國人民。武器，強權在手，不拿群眾一針一線，
那是無比高貴的品質，必定受到全國人民的支持擁護，并且一定能夠建立一個自由，平等，富強的新中國。那里沒有腐敗，那里沒有欺壓；人民一定能夠享受到公
正，自由，平等。 這就是我參加共產黨的原因之一。

衹可惜令人失望的是，三大紀律和八項注意，巳沒有執行很久了。
—–

The third time I went sailing turned into an unexpected life experience for me.

Stanley is a suburb town with a beautiful beach on the southeast tip of Hong Kong Island. I was twenty years old. In those days, I often went
sailing and rowing. I was the champion of the rowing club
competition at Chung Chi College (Hong Kong Chinese University).
I loved sports as I was also a swimmer and played water polo.

I remember that sunny day in December. Though winter was not a good
season for sailing in Hong Kong, my friend and I wanted to take
advantage of such beautiful day, so we went. Since we didn’t plan to
swim in the winter water, we wore our student outfits—blazers and denim
slacks. On the way to Stanley, we bought a few bottles of cola
and some peanuts, and we arrived at four o’clock in the afternoon. When
we saw the beautiful deep blue sea we immediately took off our black
leather shoes and jumped into a 16′ sailboat. We inserted the wooden
ventral fin into the centre hole and hoisted the sail. Away we went.

We had steady southerly wind and enjoyed the full speed pulling us
effortlessly toward the South China Sea. One good thing about sailing
is that the boat is powered by wind, without the sound of the
motor. All is quiet, only the sound of breaking waves.

In just a little over an hour, we came near the “Dam Gong
Islands”—the Chinese border. By that time, the sun was setting
and it was time to return, so I steered the boat north to Stanley. We
now were facing a headwind and it was much harder to move forward. I
then repositioned the sail and the boat sailed in a zig-zag. At that
time I also rowed to increase our speed. A beautiful bright golden lace
edged the moving clouds crafting a gigantic screen in the western sky
that tempted us to stay longer. However, the temperature began
dropping, we had to return.

Suddenly, the southerly winds turned fierce, pushing the high waves
toward us. We could see tiers of wave walls gulping toward
us. Two-storey-high waves tossed our boat up high and flung us
back down. I quickly lowered the sail and began rowing. By this
time, because of the raging wave and the high wind, I had to give up my
navigational aim—Stanley—and turned our boat to face the wind and the
huge waves to avoid capsizing. Sea water poured into our boat.
Feeling too sick to row, my friend began to bail out the water. For a
time, I had to lay down my oars, too, and bailed frantically.

The tossing waves weakend us and we felt wet and cold. We began to
lose our strength. I remember feeling nervous, but I felt that I must
persist in rowing and encouraging my friend. Unfortunately we were
still pushed further south to the Chinese border.

I began assessing the dangerous possibilities: We could be
caught by the People’s Liberation Army in China and charged as
Kuomintang spies! We could be in the cold water all night until
the next morning when it became bright enough to wave for help! We
could drown if there was no one around to help! Even worse, we
could be eaten by sharks! I felt I must be brave. There was
no time for anxiety, I had to keep rowing.

From nowhere came a fishing boat sailing alongside us. Three
fishermen squatted on the side plank, smiling. My ego rose high
and without looking at them, I kept on rowing. Good show! The boat
didn’t move an inch. The fishermen laughed loudly. Soon they were gone.
I remember feeling more worried.

Few minutes later, the fishing boat reappeared. I remember when they
asked whether we needed help. At that time, the fishermen knew and we
knew that this was a life or death situation. I dropped my ego and
requested their help.

The fishermen acted rapidly. First, they fastened our rocking boat,
using two long poles with hooks at the end, and pulled our sail boat
close to the fishing boat. Then they lifted us up to the fishing boat.
The fishermen’s wives gave us a drink of alcohol and covered us each
with warm blankets. At the same time, they took our damp clothes
and put them to dry in the hot engine room below. The fishermen were
kind enough to explain that even their boat, equipped with an
inboard motor, couldn’t get back to Stanley. The only place to get to
shore and safety was Aberdeen. Aberdeen was on the other end of the
south west side of Hong Kong Island.

When I look back, I remember how dangerous it was, and how lucky we were to have the fishermen come to our rescue.