A Handshake Across the Pacific ——A Tale of Sino-American Friendship During the Battle of Hengyang To commemorate the 80th anniversary of the victory in the War of Resistance Against Japan
2025/05/14 11:03
Origin:cced.cn
In the summer of 1944, the smoke of war enveloped the city of Hengyang, then enduring one of the most brutal battles of the Anti-Japanese War. Chinese soldiers and civilians resisted the Japanese onslaught with their flesh and blood, while in the skies above Hunan, pilots of the American 14th Air Force (the Flying Tigers) engaged in desperate dogfights with Japanese Zero fighters. One August morning, Major Thomas Wilson of the 14th Air Force was piloting his P-40 on an escort mission when he was ambushed by a swarm of enemy planes. His engine took a hit, and thick smoke billowed from the tail, trailing flames. Struggling to control the crippled aircraft, Thomas managed to bail out, parachuting into a rice paddy in Ganxi Village, Sanjia Town, Shaoyang County, Hunan Province.
The plane glided over 3,000 meters before crashing into a cliff, its explosion shattering the mountain’s silence. Covered in blood, Thomas was thrown from the cockpit by the impact and landed beside the muddy paddy. Villagers from Sanjia rushed to the scene, horrified by what they saw: the unconscious, fair-haired, blue-eyed pilot had a mangled left arm and severe burns covering his body. Someone recognized the Flying Tigers emblem on his uniform—a familiar sight to the Chinese people, as those shark-nosed planes had soared through the skies countless times, battling Japanese aircraft to protect this land.
“Quick! Carry him to the Xiao family’s Shizhiyuan ancestral home!” an elder shouted. The Xiao residence, a gray-brick courtyard just 200 meters away, was home to Xiao Zhi’an, the fifth-generation inheritor of the Xiao family’s natural burn therapy, and Xiao Nanheng, the sixth-generation heir, who happened to be retrieving supplies from their home after working at the Zhijiang Airport construction site. Hearing the commotion, they hurried out. Kneeling to examine Thomas’s wounds, their faces darkened: the burns reached deep into muscle and bone, and the injuries were caked with mud. Without immediate treatment, infection would prove fatal. Xiao Nanheng directed the villagers to carry Thomas inside while he rushed to the backyard pharmacy. From the cabinets, he retrieved a jar of their renowned natural burn ointment, famed throughout Hunan for its ability to cool inflammation, promote blood circulation, and regenerate flesh.
With Japanese planes increasingly sweeping over Sanjia, Xiao Nanheng knew that harboring an American pilot would bring annihilation upon the village. That night, villagers secretly transported Thomas on a bamboo stretcher to the “Nine-Linked Caves” behind Shizhiyuan. The natural limestone cavern had a narrow entrance but opened into a vast underground world with a hidden river and cascading stalactites. Its cool summer air made it an ideal sanctuary for burn recovery. Xiao Nanheng set up camp there, daily cleansing Thomas’s wounds with spring water and herbal concoctions. Rotten flesh was carefully excised with a silver scalpel before warm ointment was applied; when fever raged, decoctions of dandelion, white milkweed, and honeysuckle were used for both external washing and internal relief.
Coincidentally, Xiao Nanheng, a graduate of Hunan University, could converse fluently in English. Thomas gradually learned to say “pain” and “thank you” in Chinese, while Xiao Nanheng discovered from a photo in the pilot’s pocket watch that the 27-year-old hailed from Texas and had a wife awaiting his return. During one dressing change, Thomas suddenly gripped Xiao Nanheng’s hand, pointing at the faded anti-Japanese slogan “Return Our Rivers and Mountains” on the cave wall. Slowly, he said, “We… fight… together.”
After 28 days of treatment, Thomas’s wounds finally healed. Under a moonless sky, sedan bearers carried him to a fishing boat, which smuggled him south to Zhijiang Air Base. At their parting, Xiao Nanheng pressed a jar of ointment into Thomas’s pack: “If the scars itch, don’t scratch. Avoid irritant foods.”
On August 21, 1945, at Qili Bridge in Zhijiang, Hunan, Japanese surrender representative Takeo Imai signed the capitulation documents. Thomas attended the ceremony as a representative of the 14th Air Force. When he spotted a familiar figure in the audience, he could hardly believe his eyes—Xiao Nanheng, dressed in a traditional long gown, was being ushered into the venue by a crowd of Chinese soldiers and civilians. It turned out that after the villagers reported their rescue of the American pilot, the Nationalist government had specially invited Xiao Nanheng to witness this historic moment.
Two souls, forged in the crucible of war, reunited. Thomas removed his gloves, revealing hands now healed, though still pink with new skin; Xiao Nanheng opened his medicine chest, presenting the blue-and-white porcelain jar that had once held the life-saving ointment. They exchanged a smile and clasped hands tightly. Under the flashbulbs, this handshake across the Pacific became a vivid testament to Sino-American camaraderie in the fight against fascism.
Today, the Xiao Family Museum of Traditional Chinese Medicine still preserves artifacts from this history. In a letter to Xiao Nanheng, Thomas wrote: “My child will always remember that her father was saved by Eastern herbal medicine and the kindness of Chinese villagers.” This wartime bond, like the lingering fragrance of the Xiao family’s burn remedy, continues to flow quietly through time, speaking to humanity’s reverence for life and the warmth of civilization even in the darkest hours.
“Entrepreneurship inherits ancient wisdom; the flame of dedication still burns.” —Founding motto of the Luoyang Burn Hospital by Xiao Nanheng’s descendants.(Xiao Jianxun)
| Xinhua | China Plus
Copyright ? CCEDN.COM.CN. All Rights [京ICP備2024049485號-1] Tel: 0086-10-88820521