Early in the summer of 1938, drums and bamboo trumpets roared in the Tungken Village of Cloud County, when twelve funerals were held in the village within ten days. The deaths and casualties of lychee farmers were caused by bombings of the transport river boats from three Japanese air raids.
Fears of Japanese invasion spread around the County. ‘To our north, Amoy was occupied by the Japs! They killed hundreds of soldiers and civilians,’ one said in the street.
‘To our south, Swatow will be the next, I reckon,’ said the other.
‘The bloody iron birds will come to drop the deadly eggs again. I will take my family to the mountainous western Fukien.’
‘You need to have money to survive, or you’ll all become refugees,’ said the other with a sigh, ‘and even die.’
The conscription office in the County was empty. Two sparrows were pecking grains in front of the office. In some popular places they would have been caught and cooked. The Chief Officer of the County came to see the headmaster of the primary school in the town.
‘Good afternoon, Mr “Swordsman”. How have you been recently?’ he said to the headmaster.
‘I am pretty well, Chief. How can I help you today?’
‘I need your help. You are the only one who can take this particular job. You know, the conscription office could not fulfill its task to enlist young men to join the army. I’m now appointing you as the Director of the Office.’
At this moment, the headmaster’s wife came in with their three-year-daughter in her arms, ‘Good afternoon, Chief,’ she greeted him.
‘What a gorgeous girl you have! She’s dressed in a western frock, it’s beautiful.’
‘Darling, I can’t be a teacher from now on,’ the headmaster said to his wife.
‘He is still a teacher. He will teach not only children, but young men now,’ the Chief replied with a laugh.
‘What? How come?’ The wife was surprised.
‘Darling, you know our motherland is invaded by the Japs. I need to do more for it.’
‘Are you joining the army? What will our daughter and I do?’
‘Yes, and no,’ the Chief interrupted. ‘He is appointed as the new Director of the Conscription Office. You need to say congratulations to him.’
‘Huh?’ the wife first looked worried, but soon turned firm and satisfied, ‘I support you, darling. I’ll follow you.’
‘Good. You can start your work tomorrow. I’ll go to tell your deputy to take up your job as the acting headmaster,’ the Chief said to him before leaving, ‘and you are still the headmaster.’
The following day, Mr ‘Swordsman’ started to work. He went to his hometown Hsinlow Village where many families had the same surname – they were from the same ancestor. ‘My beloved relatives, you all know China is now invaded by the Japs. If we do not do something, we’ll become another place like Amoy. Then we’ll become refugees, just like those from Swatow when there was a typhoon,’ he said loudly in his new grey army uniform at an open air conference in the Village.
‘War will bring death, Son,’ said one elder of the Village, ‘a proverb says, good iron will not be made into a nail, and a good man will not be a soldier.’
‘Grandpa, I understand this proverb. But now the Japs sent their iron birds and dropped the iron eggs killing many of us.’
‘We can destroy the roads to stop the Japs coming,’ the elder said.
‘But that’s the last resort. Besides, the Japs will send their boats to our docks, bringing killers here. We really need to fight them back.’
‘You sound right,’ the elder sighed after a while. ‘Go and serve our nation, boys!’
Mr ‘Swordsman’ was very pleased to find a few dozen youngsters stepped out and walked towards him. ‘Headmaster, take me! I’m healthy,’ many shouted out. Mr ‘Swordsman’ opened a register book, writing down all the names. The young men followed him to the Office. They saw some grey uniform officers waiting for them. It was a very good start from this village.
That evening, the Chief hosted a dinner for the new enlisted young men, and, of course, for Mr. ‘Swordsman’, too. After some toasts to the new soldiers, he came to the Headmaster, ‘Thank you Mr. “Swordsman”. You have done something to declutter.’