A translated diary of an educated Chinese peasant from 1942. One year of events is outlined before the diary come to an end. The names have been Anglicized for easier understanding. The language has been cleaned up. As the original translation was done 30 years ago the document is scanned into pdf with corrections. An OCR extraction is below:
April 2, 1942: Spring has finally arrived as life returns once more to the hectic pace that I am accustomed to. The winter was long and the snowfall heavy, all of which have combined to help bring about a healthy wheat crop this spring. The heavy work had started some three weeks ago as my eldest son, David, and myself began breaking up the frozen earth around the shoots of wheat to quicken the thaw and stimulate their growth. My son had already marked the fields for the sowing of the millet, which will commence in May, while Ni has begun plowing up the field with the oxen. I have spent most of the day checking the sweet potato store. Some have rotted, but many are in fine condition and should provide us with a more than adequate crop this October.
April 5, 1942: Both Ni and David are still working on the plowing and harrowing of the millet field. I have finished choosing the sweet potato seeds from the store and already have planted them in the wet sand. My brother, Dennis, came and aided me with the preparation of the vegetable garden, while his son went to help Ni and David. Tomorrow we must begin work on his fields.
May 3, 1942: We have finished the plowing of both my own and my brother’s fields and the time has arrived for the sowing of the millet. The manure has mixed well with the soil and the weather has been with us so far. I had more than enough seed for myself so I sold what remained to Ni for use in his mother’s fields. I may have been too lenient in giving it to him for two months wages. It was worth at least three and would have probably brought four on the open market. I have transferred the sweet potatoes to the vegetable garden and planted small patches of cabbage, maize, and other vegetables.
May 4, 1942: My wife told me today that I am to be the father of another child. At another time or place I may have celebrated, but the fields are like concubines, always demanding more attention than one man has to give. Yet the news makes me happy and the work in the fields becomes easier as I think of my new son.
May 12, 1942: We finished sowing both fields yesterday, so I spent most of the day tending the wheat crop, which is shaping up fine. My son worked on the vegetable garden and checked on the condition of the millet field.
June 6 1942: We have begun the harvesting of the wheat crop. My brother’s crop is larger so we went to help him today. We worked long and hard but only managed to clear half of the field. I don’t think there is any thing more gratifying than working with one’s son and brother.
June 14, 1942: My son and I went to help Dennis with the plowing of his fields for the sweet potatoes. I brought my wife to help with the threshing of the wheat. I knew I was in for trouble. Within two minutes both of them were fighting like two addicts over one opium pipe. We finally had to let my wife do the threshing while Dennis’ prepared the sweet potatoes for planting. Even then they found reason to bicker when meeting.
June 25, 1942: Dennis’ field had been plowed and planted while mine was only half complete due to Ni’ s breaking of the plow. Both Dennis and me had beaten him and docked him one and a half months wages each. We had been unable to buy a plow but were promised one by late July, which was too late for my needs.
Dennis went to Master Yeh who consented to loan us a plow for two and a half silver dollars a month. Since the new plow plus the money paid to Yeh was more than we had docked Ni we decided to dock him an additional one and a half months apiece.
July 16, 1942: News reached the village that the Japanese were closing on the district capital, which was only some seventy-five li away. The traffic on the road to the capital has become thicker as civilians flee the Japanese. I discussed the situation with Dennis and we decided that there was little we could do since our livelihood was the land. We had to stay. We did decide that we should try and hoard as much surplus foodstuffs as possible in case the Japanese should reach as far as our village and damage the crops or land, or steal what we had on hand.
August 17, 1942: We have begun harvesting the millet. Since my crop ripened early, Dennis and his son aided us, so that by the end of the day a large portion of the crop had been harvested and my wife had begun cutting the stalks and threshing the grain. Dennis decided to leave his wife behind for the sake of peace, so the work proceeded with little trouble. I have always enjoyed Dennis’ company and working with him is almost like not working at all. Dennis brought out a point today that I had never even considered, even though it is highly possible. What if my w1fe does not give me another son? Can I force her to give me one? No. Can I do anyth1ng to assure that it will be a son? No. Then what can I do? wait.
August 29, 1942: We finished the harvesting of the millet two days ago and have begun prepar1ng the fields for the wheat. We dismissed Ni as our laborer after he broke the wheelbarrow. We gave him a good thrashing and withheld the wages that he had made dur1ng the year. News reached us that the Japanese had reached the capital but that they had been unable to occupy it due to strong res1stence. Regina Yeh, Master Yeh’s daughter, reached the village from the capital last night. A strange quietness has descended over the village even though the number of troops and civilians flowing through 1s 1ncreas1ng daily.
September 13, 1942: Master Yeh has resigned his leadership of the v1llage to Jim Hua and has turned over the management of the temple to Ted Ho. The only reason I can see for this is so as not to put suspicion on himself when the Japanese reach the village. He has also gone to his tenants to extract what rent he can so as to build up his surplus of foodstuffs. Many of the peasants complain that their rent is not due, but what can
they really do, after all, it is his land. The Army, too, seems to want its share. Supposedly between the Army and Yeh many peasants have lost all of the millet that they had harvested. The army took only a quarter of my wheat and millet crop since more than half of it had been hidden. Yet what they did take could seriously hamper us this winter.
October 1, 1942: Dennis told me that Master Yeh has ask him to hold some silver for him for a period of time and that he would like to know if I would do the same. I asked why he didn’t come and ask me himself, and Dennis told me that he though it would be better if he had brought the message. Better for Yeh he means. I told Dennis to tell him I would think it over. What can I expect to get out of holding old Yeh’s money? Nothing. When the Japanese leave he will demand his money and that will be that. Yet he has done Dennis favors and he did lend me the plow when I needed it. I suppose there is no real harm in doing it. He is only looking out for his best interests, but don’t we all really.
October 3, 1942: We have begun harvesting the sweet potato crop. The winter wheat has already been sown and the rest is up to nature. I have hired Henry Chou to stay in the fields with my son and protect the crop. Army officers have reportedly been scouting the area for conscriptees. Ni and Debbie Hua’s son have already been sent to the front. I fear it will not be long before the come for David. Yeh may be grateful enough of Dennis and me to stop the conscription of our sons if we hold his money. We will see just how much Yeh values his money.
October 4, 1942: Dennis and I approached Yeh with our proposition. We will hold his money if he stops the conscription of our sons. He told us that under the circumstances it would be hard to do. We offered him an additional bushel of wheat and five bushels of millet. He said he would try. I guess the circumstances changed.
October 5, 1942: The Army officers responsible for the conscription of youths left the village today. Yeh brought his money and I buried it behind the house. We had already fallen behind with the work and w the weather was turning colder.
October 25, 1942: The work in the fields is just about complete. The Army has taken more than its share of our sweet potato crop since they were able to get here before we could hide the bulk of it. Yet it does not mean that much to me now. The fact that David is here, at least for the time being, and that the new child has almost arrived, supplies me with more than food could possibly. Although it was imminent for a long time, the fall of the district capital struck fear in the hearts of many of the villagers. Hua and Ho, the two that took over from Yeh, tried to resign but stayed because of pressure put on by Yeh. Once the sun lowered, life in the village became nonexistent except for travel through it on the road.
November 13, 1942: Tom Kuo, my cousin, arrived from a village about fifteen li to the south of the district capital that was threatened to be overrun by the Japanese. Since Kuo, a fairly poor peasant, had pro-communist leanings in the past, he though to be in his best interests to leave before the Japanese arrived, rather than take a chance on one of his enemies turning him in. My wife complained that with the Army taking everything we could not possibly support Kuo and our family too. But Kuo had brought a fair amount of foodstuffs with him, so that dispensed with the problem of supporting him. After Kuo had settled himself and his stores were safely hidden with ours, he told us of what he had seen before reaching the village. He told us that any suspected communist was shot on the spot. Men that could work were sent to work as forced-labor for the Japanese. Very few people’s food stores managed to keep hidden from the Japanese, who tore everything up looking for food and valuables. Had he not left, he probably would be dead by now.
November 14, 1942: A son was born to me this morning, Yet I am very sad. Kuo’s words stuck like thorns in my side. Had I saved David from the army to be shot in his own home or sent into forced-labor? I can hear my new son crying. Has he been born to die? Have we all?
December 1, 1942: The road has become heavily congested with troops retreating westward. The slowness of the trek gives it a semblance of order, yet there is none. Each man is on his own. Looting in the area has gone up as the troops scrounge for food as they flee. My son gave several wounded soldiers food and water. My wife wanted me to reprimand him, but I did not. They were not beggars, they were soldiers. Had it not been for my deal with Yeh, David might have been on the other end of the deal. I felt he was right. I saw a wounded soldier that looked like Ni standing by a well, but by the time I reached the well he had gone. As more and more soldiers pass through the village and into the setting sun, a deadly quietness slowly descends
on the village. I sat for a long time. No more soldiers came. The darkness crept in around me. I got up and walked home.
December 4, 1942: The road has been dead for four days now. No one comes, no one goes. The silence pervades everthing. Even the sounds of war have gone. What need is there for them. The Chinese leave, and the Japanese fill the vacuum. But what was taking them so long? Tom Kuo and my son departed today to join up with the Eighth Route Army. The decision was not mine, though I support it. At least they will have some control over living and dying. Fighting to stay alive seems better than dying without a fight.
December 5, 1942: The Japanese moved into the village today and began confiscating damn near every thing in sight. Susan Ni’s other son and Henry Chou were send to the rear as forced labor with another group of peasants. Fred Fei, partially out of spite, and to save his own skin told the Japanese commander that Dennis and me had money hidden. They tore Dennis’s house apart and beat him viciously when he denied the existence of the money. They probably would have beaten him to death had not one of the soldiers uncovered his hidden stores. Although not as great a prize as silver, it would do. However as punishment the sent his son to a forced-labor camp and made him watch while they raped his wife. By the time they reached my house their anger had calmed a great bit due to the loot they had accumulated on the way. They couldn’t let me get away unscathed, since there was a possibility that the money did indeed exist. After beating me and my wife up a bit, they settled for what was left of my winter stores.
December 6, 1942: The growing concentration of Japanese troops in the area made it difficult to reach Dennis’s house, but after being stopped and searched twice I made it. Dennis and his wife were in bad shape.
His beating was far worse than my own. From what I could tell they had broken his arm and nose, along with bruising him severely. His wife just sat staring at us like we didn’t exist. Her face was heavily bruised and I had no idea what to do to comfort her. I did what I could and left. I slipped into Yeh’s house to see what could be done for Dennis and his wife, but Yeh threatened to have me thrown out until I threatened to turn all of the money over to the Japanese. He told me what to do and warned me never to come back while the Japanese where in the village.
December 20, 1942: I finally reached Dennis’s house with food. All my earlier attempts had been foiled by the Japanese, who seem to be everywhere. However, now most of them had left except for a small garrison of about fifty soldiers left to guard the crossroads outside the village. Dennis’s wife and I had to rebreak his leg before we could set it. I did what Yeh instructed me to do, and took my leave.
January 20, 1943: The Japanese garrison stationed here has almost become a part of the daily routine. Things have returned to as close to normal as can be expected given the circumstances. There are sporadic
rapes and lootings, and an occasional beating, but nothing on the scale of what occurred during the first month. Due to the earlier looting of food, many of the older people have already died of starvation and many of the children are close to death. Luckily my young son is still living. However, our stores are running low. Had David, Kuo, and Dennis’s son remained they would have been gone by now. I have rationed every meal trying to assure enough will remain for planting. I allow Dennis and my wife additional food due to their
circumstances, but his wife and I must live on a minimal amount of food.
February 12, 1943: I look to the East. Bitter winds from the North beat on the sides of the house. The door bursts open and I rush to close it as the snow crowds in. My new son cries. It is a happy sound. A sad sound. Will he get the chance to cry again. The days grow longer while daylight seems so long
and night an eternal darkness. As I look to the East the minutes of the day pass as though centuries through my mind. My new son cries as the door bursts open yet again. I rush to close it.
March 1, 1943: Life in the village has become more active as those who can prepare for the comlng of Spring. As the weather warms the village takes on the semblence of times gone by. Mary Hao siezed a peasants land for the failure of payment of a year old debt. A peasant asks for money from Yeh so he can buy grain to plant, while another walks behind him. Yeh’s distillery opens for another year of operation. Yet every thing is not like before. Every action, every movement is under the scrutiny of a Japanese carbine.
March 21, 1943: In the distance snow capped mountains dominate the horizon, while in the plain buds appear on many of the trees. Patches of snow can be seen on the fields, but the dominant feature is the small shoots of wheat sticking out of the frozen earth. The sun rises above the mountains. My young son cries. I leave to check the fields. Life must go on, even in Hell.
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