We rolled into Bronte, Texas—one odd errant American and two journalists from China—unsure of what to expect. We were all a long way from home, but for Mr. SUN Hong, a reporter from the Liuzhou Daily, and Mr. HUANG Xiling, a videographer from the Liuzhou TV Station, the rolling mesquite-covered earth was a world away from the karst mountain country they knew in southern China’s Guangxi Province. Our location in Texas—north of San Antonio and south of Abilene—was a hot and hard place with thin soil and a shortage of rain, yet beautiful, with a brilliant blue sky brimming with small dazzling white clouds evenly spaced across its great open width.
As we made out way down the smaller road towards the modest stone ranch house, white dust swirling high behind our rental car, I was a little worried—how would the family we had come to meet treat us? Even more importantly, how would they feel about my two Chinese companions? And indeed, the results were not to be quite as I had expected.
Finally, after traveling so far, we pulled up in front of the house. We were welcomed into the home of Bobby Vaughn and his family. Together we talked about Bobby’s older brother, T/Sgt. James Vaughn, a B-24 radio operator in the 14th Air Force (308th Bombardment Group, 425th Squadron). We began to share what we had reconstructed of James Vaughn’s life in China during WWII, and they shared about this young man who had flown on missions in China then disappeared on December 18, 1944 during a sortie over the Taiwan Straits. It was at this time that a comfortable rapport unexpectedly developed, and inexplicably turned into an easy sense of friendship. We shared pictures of places that James had visited in China, and they shared pictures of James in the US—a natural athlete and one of those special few people who are well liked by all, and a young man who entered the US Air Force right out of high school. They told us rich stories of his life, what he had done, and what he could have become. But in all the back-and-forth sharing there was an element that I could not identify. It was the very ease and comfort of our interactions—strangers who had never met before—that made me wonder. It was true that we had previously corresponded, but I believe they had met few Chinese people before, and the language barrier created even more of a gap (I translated much of the time). Ultimately, I was also a stranger. Yet there was a depth of friendship that I could not understand. Then on the second day we met Bobby’s son James Vaughn—one of four younger American men named after the James Vaughn who was lost—and I was surprised all over again.
James was a tall, sturdy, and hard-working Texan rancher. With his Texas rancher’s hat he towered over the Chinese reporters, and the three together were a instant visible contrast in cultures. This James had never known his namesake, yet he had inherited all the hopes and dreams that were lost when his father’s brother had disappeared. He had also inherited the high expectations that the original James had commanded—indeed, even for us three travelers who had never known the earlier James, the little that we had reconstructed about him had in many ways made us view him as a kind of hero. It was an unfair burden for the new James to be loaded down with—from the day of his birth—and he had not had a choice in any of it. Yet as we got to know him it quickly became clear that he could carry the load and was able to do his namesake proud. In a special gesture for the reporters and myself, he had us load into his pickup truck and then he led us around the ranch (reminding us to watch for rattlesnakes), showing us his fine horse, and his herds of sheep, calling them down from the rocky slopes with a series of loud hollers. He was a little unsure what to do with us at first, but he extended true and genuine down-home friendship to the Chinese reporters—there was a warm regard or maybe even a kind of affection in the way he treated them, which they responded to. It was something extra that I could not quite grasp at the time and it relentlessly continued to work at my mind as I tried to place it. However it would take me four weeks and more travel to many other cities and states finally to understand what had happened in that afternoon and the following morning spent with that family.
|
We left the Vaughn family and headed to other places. Other cities in Texas. Florida. Virginia. Maryland. Missouri. Arkansas. Oregon. Everywhere we went people extended what could only be genuine friendship to the reporters and myself. They shared stories of their experiences in China—sometimes with laughter and sometimes with tears—the shared what they remembered of the place and people, and how their own lives had been changed in the lifetime of years following. For the three of us—younger men than the generation who actually served—their personal histories fascinated us, and gave us a vision of those days and how the Americans and Chinese had worked together. Those people who shared can never understand how much it meant to the three of us that they shared their personal experiences, and the power of the friendship that they offered—a wonderful message of friendship from true Americans that has already been carried back to China. Yet through it all I wondered at the depth of warmth extended to my two Chinese friends. I was gratified, and ever so proud, at these people who were so kind at each stop, but still I wondered. There was some important aspect of almost every interaction that I had not understood.
When back in my hometown of Eugene, Oregon, towards the end of our journeys, I took Sun and Huang to meet a reporter with the local paper. He turned the tables and interviewed them.
One question was, “What has left the strongest impression during your travels working on this project?”
Sun thought for a while. “Over and over, both in the interviews in China we did with Chinese who remembered the Americans, and with the Americans on this trip, two words have come up constantly. ‘Friendship’ and ‘gratitude.’ Both sides use these words.”
I thought about it myself. He was right, these special words had accompanied us the whole time.Finally, at that time I started to understand. The extra warmth. The easy interaction. Like old friends. The way the younger James Vaughn, who had inherited so many expectations and hopes from the uncle he had never met, so also had he inherited a bond between his family and the people of China. These two men who visited James’ family, and who interviewed so many people across the US during our travels, had inherited a deep bond of friendship from the generation of Americans and Chinese who stood together against a common enemy during WWII. Friendship passed on to people who were not even alive during the war, without being earned, without reservation, and without condition. An inheritance. Stretching almost 60 years now, reaching across an ocean. A bond bought at a precious price—all the energies and young lives that both the Americans and Chinese gave up during that hard time.
Yet not forgotten and certainly not lost.
I am astonished by it.
In Arkansas someone showed us a paper flyer that had been distributed to the Chinese. The picture showed Chinese people helping an American serviceman. The caption in Chinese instantly jumped out at me: “Help the Americans. They will never forget it.”
It was a kind of propaganda at the time. But in the end it was proved true: The Americans had never forgotten. Neither had the Chinese, as I discovered while investigating around Liuzhou.
This project, “Remembering Shared Honor,” started almost by chance. Living in China, I had heard that once there had been an American airbase in Liuzhou, in Guangxi. I asked a Chinese friend to call someone in the city government there to see if they could tell me where the airbase had been when I came through on a trip a few weeks later. When I got there on March 7, 2002, not only did they tell me where the base had been, but they dropped what they were doing and went with me to show me the location. They explained what they knew, and showed me locations in the area around Liuzhou where American planes had fallen, where crews had been saved, or died. They arranged for me to meet Chinese people who worked with the Americans. They shared what they knew. They encouraged, what was for me, rediscovery. Eventually two reporters, Sun and Huang, tracked me down. They were interested in the story of a American coming back to learn this history, but we found something else in common over time—a belief that this history of cooperation and friendship between the Chinese and Americans should mean something today, that it could be one part of friendship between these two great peoples now. It needed to be remembered even more, and our generation, both in China and in the US, needed to know more about it. A special bond of friendship started between the three of us, to be welded during weeks of travel and research together.
And all along during my research around Liuzhou people extended warm friendship to me. Just like these two Chinese men who were to travel to America just a few months later, as an American I was the inheritor of friendship today because of the sacrifice of my father’s generation.
To all those who helped us set up this journey across the US this summer—people like Lou Glist, David Dale, Douglas Runk, and others who wrote invitation letters, and people like Mr. WANG Anzhi, a businessman in China (Kinmet Group), who covered some of the expenses, thank you! For all those Americans who shared in every state and city we visited, and the veterans and their spouses who shared with us at the CBI Veterans Association Reunion in St. Louis, thank you! The open and warm friendship you extended surpassed anything we had even dreamed about. For the three of us, I thank you for this friendship which we all treasure.
And to all the Chinese people who served during the war or helped the Americans, I know you are now elderly gentlemen and gentlewoman, and what you did during those few years was just a small part of a long life of experience. But it changed a generation of young American men who met you, and created those memories which they honor even now. Thank you for the precious friendship you extended to them during a bitter war—Sun, Huang, and I can testify that it is still treasured in America today.
See, there it is again. Friendship and gratitude.
What a good inheritance you’ve created for us.
Patrick Lucas
October 14, 2002
Beijing
作者：Patrick Lucas （卢百可） 译者：孙红
一个独行侠似的美国人，两个来自中国的记者，我们在一片茫然中走进了德克萨斯州布朗特镇。我们的家都在遥远的地方。眼前的地方，正在圣安托尼奥市和阿比林市之间，虽然气候燥热、土地贫瘠，景色却依然优美：原野上覆盖着一丛丛的牧豆树，头顶是明朗而辽阔的蓝天白云。对孙红（柳州日报社记者）和黄希翎（柳州电视台摄像）而言，这里与广西那熟悉的喀斯特地貌简直大相径庭。我们开着租来的轿车，拐上一条小路，驶向一家牧场里的石头房子，车后扬起高高的灰尘。我突然有点担心：这个家庭会怎样对待我们呢？更重要的是，他们会如何看待与我同行的两个中国人呢？结果有些出乎我的预料。 一 终于到了，我们把车停在门前，进了罗伯特·沃恩的家里。我们和罗伯特及其家人围桌而坐，开始谈论罗伯特的大哥——詹姆斯·沃恩军士。詹姆斯是美国第十四航空队308轰炸大队425中队的一名无线电操作员，1944年12月18日在飞往台湾海峡的一次任务中失踪。我们在中国的寻访可以勾勒出“二战”期间詹姆斯在中国的生活情况，我们把这些情况与罗伯特一家分享。罗伯特一家也给我们讲了有关詹姆斯的很多事情。不知不觉中，气氛变得融洽，关系逐渐亲近。我们调出照片，给他们看詹姆斯在中国到过的地方。他们给我们看詹姆斯在美国拍的照片——天生的运动员、人见人爱的小伙子、高中毕业就参加空军的热血青年。他们讲了很多有关詹姆斯的故事，包括他的经历、他未及展开的远大前程。在你来我往的交流中，我总感到隐约有一种东西在发挥作用。一群陌生人，过去从未谋面，现在却谈笑风生、水乳交融，这让我百思不得其解。虽然有书信来往，但我相信，罗伯特一家过去很少见到中国人，语言障碍也是一个大问题（在大多数时间由我充当翻译）。更何况，我也是陌生人。这么快就建立这么深厚的友谊，真让我难于理解。第二天，我们见到了罗伯特的儿子，小詹姆斯·沃恩（在詹姆斯·沃恩失踪以后，为了纪念他，先后有四个小男孩沿用他的名字，小詹姆斯就是其中之一）。这次我又吃惊了。小詹姆斯是一个高大、健壮、勤劳的德克萨斯农民。他把自己的德克萨斯草帽套到一个中国记者头上，三个人在一起正好形成强烈的对比。小詹姆斯从来没有见过与自己同名的伯父，但他承载着整个家庭对失踪伯父的魂牵梦绕。他还承载着人们对老詹姆斯的厚望——即使我们这些从没见过老詹姆斯的外人，也凭借从各方面收集来的零星资料，把老詹姆斯视为英雄。从出生的那一天起，小詹姆斯就无可选择地背负上这一切，这对他并不公平。但是，我们一见到他，很快就明白：他担当得起这一切，他不会辜负这个名字。让两个记者和我自己特别舒服的是，他请我们坐上他的轻型卡车，带着我们游览他的牧场。他提醒我们小心响尾蛇，给我们看他的骏马。他大声吆喝着，把羊群唤下山来。一开始，他并不太清楚该如何对待我们，但他对两个中国记者表现出实实在在的、兄弟般的情谊，两个记者自然投桃报李。从当时到后来很长一段时间，这总让我感觉怪怪的。当为期四周的旅程结束时，我才真正明白其中的奥妙。 二 离开罗伯特家，我们继续上路。德克萨斯州的其他城市。佛罗里达州。弗吉尼亚州。马里兰州。密苏里州。阿肯色州。俄勒冈州。每到一处，每采访一个人，两位记者和我自己都感受到纯真的友谊。他们与我们分享自己在中国的经历——有时放声大笑，有时无语凝噎。他们讲述自己记忆中的地方和人物，讲述那段经历如何影响以后的人生。对我们这三个晚辈而言，这些故事惊心动魄，让我们看到了过去，看到了中国人和美国人并肩战斗的场景。他们不知道，他们讲述的这些个人经历对我们意味着什么；他们也不知道，他们所奉献的友谊是多么强大——真实的美国人自然流露的友好信息已被带回中国。每一站的采访，人们都是如此友好，这让我感动，甚至自豪。不过，我一直不太肯定，背后是不是有什么奇妙的东西在发挥作用。旅程接近尾声。我们回到了我的家乡——俄勒冈州尤金市。一家地方报纸的记者采访了我们。“在这个项目的整个行程中，给你印象最深的是什么？”孙红想了一会儿。“不管是过去在中国的采访，还是这一次在美国的采访，有两个词不断地反复出现——‘友谊’和‘感谢’。双方都用这两个词。”我想了一想。孙红说得对，这两个独特的词陪伴我们走完了整个旅程。我恍然大悟。热情。轻松。像老朋友一样。就像小詹姆斯，他从没见过面的伯父那里传承了无数的期盼，也传承了他们家族与中国人民之间的纽带。在这个项目中，两个中国记者采访了詹姆斯的家庭，采访了众多的美国人，他们也传承了中美两国前辈在“二战”中并肩抗击共同敌人而结下的友谊纽带。没有衰减，没有保留，没有条件，友谊就这样传承下来，直到战争中尚未出世的人们。传承。穿越历史、横跨大洋的传承。这个纽带是中美两国人民在那段艰苦岁月里共同用热血和生命铸造的，它是如此昂贵。好在没有遗忘。当然没有失落。我很震惊。在阿肯色州，我们看到一张“二战”时期撒给中国人的传单，上面画着中国老百姓帮助美军人员的景象。旁边有一行字，一下子跃入我的眼帘：“帮助美国人，他们永远不会忘记。”这是当时的宣传。但后来的事实证明，美国人从来没有忘记。中国人也没有忘记。我在柳州周边寻访时的发现证明了这一点。 三 说起“共享光荣”这个项目，起初有些偶然。我在中国生活，听说广西柳州过去有一个美国空军基地。有一次，我请一个朋友提前给柳州市政府的一个人打电话，说我可能在几个星期后到柳州，看他们可否在我到柳州时告诉我老基地在哪里。2002年3月7日，我来到柳州，他们不仅告诉我基地在哪里，还放下手头的工作带我去现场参观。他们介绍了有关情况，还告诉我在柳州周边哪些地点曾有美军飞机坠毁、哪次事件中机组人员获救了、哪次事件中机组人员牺牲了。他们安排我会见曾与美国人一起工作的中国人。他们与我分享各种信息，鼓励我来重新发现。孙红和黄希翎后来对我跟踪采访，他们先是好奇：这个美国人为何现在回来追寻那段历史呢？后来，我们发现了共同点——我们都相信，中美两国人民友好合作的历史在今天仍有其价值，它是两个国家伟大人民友谊的一部分。不管是在中国还是在美国，特别是我们这一代人，应该更多地回想和了解这段历史。我们三个人因此结缘，并在后来的共同寻访中成为知己。我在柳州寻访的整个过程中，人们对我非常友好。几个月后，两个中国记者来到美国寻访，得到同样的款待。作为一个美国人，因为父辈的牺牲，在今天，我成了那份友谊的继承者。鲁·格里斯特，大卫·戴尔，道格拉斯·鲁兰克，以及其他的邀请人，还有柳州的赞助商王安之先生，谢谢你们！那些遍布各州各市、与我们分享过去的美国 共享光荣 |友谊和感谢|德克萨斯州|308轰炸大队|425中队|沃恩|卢百可|孙红|1944