 The National Broadcasting Company and its affiliated stations present the Pacific Story. In the Mounting Fury of World Conflict, events in the Pacific are taking on ever greater importance. Here is the story of the Pacific and the millions of people who live around this greatest city. The drama of the people whose destiny is at stake in the Pacific War. Here, at another public service, is the tale of the war in the Pacific and its meaning to us and to the generations to come. The Yangtze. Dragging our anchor, old one. Pay out some more chains. We have only a few fathoms left, old one. And the way the river is rising, we will not be able to... Stop your babbling, too, and pay out the chains as much as we have of it. We must hang on here as long as we can. Oh, ha! Pay out the anchor chain! Pay out the anchor chain! The river was a color of red brass. The sky is the color of lead. Every timber of my junk strained against the terror of the current. In all my years on the river, never had I seen it so savvy. We were coming down the river, down from Chongqing with a cargo of tea and sesame oil, the cow bone. A thousand miles and more above Chongqing, the mountain snows had melted and the water came raging down to the Yangtze. We could see the river rising. The current swept us along like a leaf. We will soon be to Wushan Gorge, my mother. Yes, my darling. Can we get through the twenty-four miles of the gorge without using dash to pieces like an eggshell against the boulder? The river was tearing us down into the gorge. We will try to hold on long until the high water goes down. Yes, my mother. The current thundered against the sides of the junk as the anchor took hold. All of the anchor chain is paid out, old one. Now we must pray that the cane will not toss. The waters are rising. Is the cargo secure? The cargo is secure, but the crew is uneasy. Have the crew stand by. All night. All night. Yes, old one. As darkness fell, the river became a gleaming current. The junk strained against the rushing waters. I could feel the anchor dragging. In the half-darkness, witches' mountain hovered over the place where the river cut down through Wushan Gorge. The anchor, old one. Bring the junk around downstream. We're heading down into the gorge. Man that killer! Bring her right! Bring the tail! Jump to it! Bring that boob around! We floundered helplessly in the raging currents, slipping backwards, struggling to bring her around before we entered the winding gorge. As we headed between the towering walls, the blackness of the night closed in around us. When you're right! Hard right! All through that night, we fought to keep them being smashed against the boulders and against the walls of the Wushan Gorge. In my 50 years on the river, I had learned every turn in boulder, but my old eyes could not see them. We crashed and bumped our way through the 24 miles of the gorge. The river is still rising, old one. Yes, higher than I have ever seen it. I have never seen the water so high in the gorge. The low lands must be flooded. Yet on, rapids ahead. Yet on, rapids. Keep her close to the wind. Cut rocks on the left. Keep her misbrained. Here, where the young sea narrows, the raging waters were turning up almost over the rocks on the left. Turning up and boiling over these most dangerous rapids on the river. Cut rocks on the left! Keep her clear! When you're hard right! We were heavy with water. We moved like a water log dock. Bring her around there, too! Give me that killer. Now, bring her around! The swirling waters carried us toward the rocks, then caught us and swung us around and out, once more into the stream. The waters were rising. Each hang, the flood waters had risen 50 feet, and were still rising. Ten miles below each hang, we went through the last of the gorges. As we came out, we saw the water overflowing the riverbed. We sailed on through Shanxi and Yochiao to Hangau. The water was still rising. You brought your cargo safely through from Qiong-Qing, Qingli? Except the part damaged by water. There's no place to laugh. Unload it here, Tangkou. Not any place between here and Shanghai, I am told. That is right. The water is higher here than any man has ever seen it. You are fortunate. I have spent all my life on the river. Yes. Already it is reported 140,000 are dead. Nowhere is life so cheap this year. But think of the property loss. $300 million damage to crops. And besides, there is damage to all of the property. Where can I unload? There is no place to unload until the water goes down. This was my home. As much as any place had ever been my home, I was born on a riverboat. My father spoke of Hangau as home. We traveled up and down the river, but we always came back here. We had pigs and chickens and two cats aboard our boat. My father tied a pig bladder to each of my three brothers, so that if they fell overboard, they would float at least a little. They tied nothing around me, because I was a girl. One of my brothers drowned anyway. The other two died in the war. My father always talked about Hangau. 600 miles from here is the mouth of the river. Someday we will fail down there. I never saw the mouth of Yangtzee until I failed down there years later with my husband. Once long ago, Hangau was completely destroyed. I learned that was during the typing rebellion in 1857. Hangau is a good place. It's the most important place in the tea trade in this whole part of China. I used to wonder how big China was. All I knew was the Yangtzee. Yes, Hangau is a good place. Look at all the boats. I used to sit on our junk and look at all the boats lined up side by side as far as I could see. Babies were being born in the boats every day, just as I was born in a boat. Boys and girls were growing up on them and people were dying on them. This is the place to live. We carry sugar and cotton up the river from Hangau away up to Chongqing, even beyond up to Pingxian. We sail as we like. We see the country. We see many interesting people. And then we load pine bark and lacquer and straw rope and anything else they have and bring it down here to Hangau. What could be better? I married Pai, one of us river people. We had just come back to Hangau in 1911 when the revolutionists came. This is Jinli. You hear that shooting? Yes, I hear it, Pai. I have heard it said they would come here to Hangau. Take the children below, we'll move up the river. Yes, Pai. I took the children below. Yes, Pai. What is it? He didn't answer. I ran upon deck and very well lying there. Jinli. They have... Blood was streaming from his calf. Bullet. He's been hit by a bullet from the shore. Oh, Pai. Pai. I failed the junk and brought up my children. The girl died. The older boy was killed in the war. The younger boy, Wan, grew up on the junk with me. Look at that, my mother. Farmers planting a crop down there in the river flat. That is the third crop this year, my son. What will happen if the river floods before they can harvest their crops and they will lose it? Wan said nothing. He'd always watched the farmers from the river. Watch those in the lowlands beside the river and watch those on the high cliffs above the river. Look at those farmers up above us, my mother. Yes, they're very hard workers. If they should fall off their land up on those cliffs, I don't see how they could live. Perhaps they could not, Wan. See the fruits and vegetables they grow up there? Yes. When the river is at high water, it comes right up to the edge of their farms. It must be very good to be a farmer. Wan talked to the men who know about farming. They told him many things. There is no land in all the world so fertile as this Yankee Valley. It has been worked for thousands of years, and still it is good land. As we have gone up and down the river, I have seen farmers all along the shore working in the earth. It is their light. It must be the life of millions. It is. The Yankee basin is immense. 700,000 square miles. And as the Nile is the very life of 20 million Egyptians and Sudanese. So our Yankee is the life of 200 million Chinese. Nearly half the people of China. Yes, nearly half the people of China. When the waters went down after that great flood in 1931, Wan went ashore. He had been born on the river as I had and as my people had before me. He had been brought up on our junk as we sailed up the river from Hancao to Chongqing and Pingshan and back again to Hancao. Up the river and down year after year. I belong to the earth, my mother. You are a riverboat, Lela, my son. There was nothing for me on the river. Do you wish to go ashore? I do not know. He went ashore and helped in repairing the damage done by the river. You need not carry so much earth in your baskets, Wan. I must carry my parts. Yes, all of us must. For this is a task for millions of workers like us. What I carry is like a grain of sand on a seashore. It is the grains of sand one by one that rebuild our dikes and canals. Yes. From the junk, I could see the workers. Thousands of them around Hancao. Carrying baskets of earth hanged from poles across their shoulders. Men from other lands came up the river to see them and to see what the flood had done. They wrote what they saw. Literally millions of Chinese are working in the Yangtze Valley to repair the damage done by the flood. They have almost no tools. They carry the earth to patch the dikes and the canals and the same sort of baskets they spend from poles. They have been used in China for thousands of years. With the raking waters of the Yangtze, washed through the dikes, they are sitting in the great breeches, basketful by basketful. They must have built more than 4,000 miles of earthworks. They are swarming over the wrecked dikes. Wan worked a long months until the rebuilding in the patchwork were done. Then when the time came for us to move up the river again, he came aboard the junk to see me. I am going away, my mother. Do you want to get away from the river? No, my mother. I want to learn to do something to help those who live on the river and those who earn their living from the valley of the river. You are a riverboat driver, my son. I shall never forget that, my mother. I have seen what it can do and I have worked repairing the damage it has done. And that is what I want to do. Repair broken dikes and canals? No, my mother. Plan new ones and better ones. I do not understand, my son. One who can build dikes that will hold does more for his people than one who leads an army. Yes. He works for the farmers and he works for the river people. And you wish to do that, Wan? Yes. I wish to be an engineer. He went away down river to school. We went up river, up through the east bank, gorgeous to Chongqing with hardware and sugar. He brought back herbs and dried mushrooms and peppers and sesame oil. Each time we came back to Hangzhou, we saw how it was changing. Ah, you are back again, Qinli. Is your cargo safe? Always you think of your cargo first. A merchant takes care of his business and his business takes care of him. You need no one to take care of you. Competition is becoming greater here in Hangzhou. Yes. Of course, the weaving mills are expanding. More and more cotton and artificial silk and woolens are being made right here. So more and more people are coming up the river. And with them are coming more merchants. You are just learning what it means to struggle to live. At least you do not have the competition of the Japanese on the river. They are the ones behind the big new iron and steel plants here. And if it were known, they are the ones behind much of the other business here, too. It is all a merchant in Hangzhou can do these days. Yes. The river town of Hangzhou was changing. We could see it from our junk and we could see it when we went ashore. New and modern things were everywhere. The English and the Americans and the Germans and the French and the Russians came up the river. Look at those ships anchored there. Yes, too. There is one from the Jardin line. There is one from Butterfield and Swire. There is a dollar liner from America. Yes. And there is a Japanese boat. And what is that one? That is one of the Sino-French boats. Boats from everywhere. Here we are 900 miles up the river and there are almost as many boats here as in a big seaport. Yes, too. How can we, with our poor junk, do business against them? The big ships came and went. More and more of them. And when they came up the river, they brought ideas and information. What could China do if Japan sent a navy up the Yangtzee? Japan. The fought was sharp as a dagger. China has no navy to stop her. Was there danger that Japan might strike China? The Yangtzee divides China in two. The power that controls the Yangtzee controls all central China. The shadow of Japan was falling across China. Outside of Beijing. How do you know, children? The word just came across the boats from shore. The fighting has spread all over. Then they will come here to Han Kong. Shall we sail up River Kinley? We will keep working as if there is no war until the war comes here. We went on carrying cargoes up the river. Carrying cargoes down. Wan was down river, but no word came from him. Others coming up river told us what was happening below. They bombed Yankees from the air until nothing was left. Then their armies came. They burned a city, and they tortured and slaughtered us by the thousands. I am the only one left of our compound. We went down river. Down below Han Kong to help some of the refugees. We were heavy with the poor wretched. The Japanese are coming up the river. They are coming up the river with their warships. That meant that they would smash Han Kong as they had smashed the city below. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. You're playing. of all our machinery. We must save that machinery before the invaders reach it. Do they wish us to go down river and bring up the machinery, Tindley? Let the men talk. You river people with your junk know this river better than any other people on Earth. We will go down the river in your junk and we will load the machinery. We will bring it up here in part. We will bring every piece of machinery that can be saved. How soon can we be ready to sail, Chul? Before noon. Before noon we were headed down river with a strong current behind us and our sails creaking in the wind. Killer hard right! Killer hard! For days we headed downstream. The river dotted with junk. When we got to the river port where the machinery was, waiting on the waterfront, the junk were clustered around like ants. Everyone helped load the machinery onto the junk. Hurry! We must get every piece of all these junk before the Japanese come. The Japanese are closing in on the city. Already? The commander told us he could hold them off until we got this machinery loaded. We cannot hold them. The commander says the Japanese will be here before daylight. You must hold them. We'll die before we let them pass and we will die before we let them take this machinery. Hurry, my people, hurry! The Japanese will be here before daylight. Hurry, hurry! Before the sun rose in the east we were on our way upstream. Our hold and our decks creaked with a heavy machinery. Pieces and parts piled over every inch of our decks. At daylight we could see the other junk all heavy with machinery making their way up river. The wind in their sails and their prowls fighting against the current. And day and night we watched the skies for Japanese planes and bombed and strained us. We sailed on our junk with the hundreds of others. At last we reached Hancau. You cannot unload here. The Japanese warships are coming up the river. As far up as Hancau here? Probably farther. They will try to open the way for their armies. Where will we take the machinery? Up to Ichang. You must leave at once. The Japanese warships may be here in a few hours. Get the crew together too. We will start at once. Yes, Kinley. Most before we were out into the stream the Japanese warships came. We swung over close to the shore. They have opened fire, Kinley. Yes, they're shooting into the city. No mercy in them, Kinley. No, true. Soon their soldiers will land. We will never see Hancau again as we knew it. We could hear the firing all that day as we made our way up the river. At last we could hear the firing no more. We knew that the city was dead. We went on with our heavy cargo up against the current. There is Ichang. Look. Look at all the machinery there on the waterfront. That must be the machinery brought up by the junks before us. Is it not, old one? Yes, it must. It is good that we are here or our timbers are bursting with our heavy cargo. We could not go farther. That is right, Kinley. Bring her on to the deck, too. And we will start unloading at once. Yes, old one. As we swung into the dock, a young man jumped aboard. I could not see his face, but I knew his steps. My mother. Oh, my mother. One who are my sons? Heavens be thanks, my mother, I have found you. I could say nothing. They told me in Han Cal that you had gone on up here to Ichang. We could not unload there. You cannot unload here, either. Not here? Look at all the machinery there on the waterfront. Yes, my mother. There are a hundred thousand tons here, but all of it must be loaded on boats again and move through the gorges to the upper river ports and to Chunqing. That's why I have come to help you. But our junk. Our junk is almost a part with its great burden. You cannot unload here, my mother. The Japanese are coming up the river. I will go with you. We started up river for Ichang. The raging currents through the gorges pounded against us. Then the wind turned against us. One and two and the others of the crew pulled on the great oars with all of the gin then. We moved inch by inch with our heavy machinery against the curve. The junk strained and grown reached the narrows of the gorges where the towering walls closed in on us. And the boiling waters sundered against our fouls. We, we can row no more, old one. Then lead out the tow rope. Yes, old one. I will help. Down here, Juan. Lead out the tow rope. We led out the bamboo rope with its harnesses. And Juan went ashore to be the lead man. Two stayed aboard to handle the junk with me. With their harnesses over their shoulders. Juan and our deckmen strained against the rope. They clung to the narrow pathway on the side of the gorge as they towed the junk against the thorns. Above is the winding curve, old one. Steady on the killer tool. I have it. The rapids of this curve are savage. Yes, old one. Juan, dig your toes into the pathway on this curve. Swinging us back. There goes Juan. The boat pulled him off the path. Oh Juan, Juan. He fell down on those rocks down there where the current is smashing over the rocks. Oh Juan. We're singing around against the boulder too. It's all Juan's washed lifelift down the gorge as we laid battering against the great boulder. We made our way up to Chöntain. There we unloaded our machinery. The other boats that got up that far unloaded their pieces of machinery too. The machinery was put together and put to work for China. We are still sailing the Yanxi here upriver. The Japanese have never got above the Yicheng. Someday we will be going downriver again, down to Yicheng and to Hancao. And even beyond that, down to the sea. For we know that the Yanxi is the life stream of China. Welcome to the Pacific Story, presented by the National Broadcasting Company and its affiliated independent stations as a public service to clarify events in the Pacific and to make understandable across currents of life in the Pacific Basin. For a reprint of this Pacific Story program, send 10 cents in stamps or coin to University of California Press, Berkeley, California, Donald Markwood. The original musical score was composed and conducted by Thomas Paluso. Your principal voice was that of Gran Delano. This program came to you from Hollywood. This is the National Broadcasting Company.