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at noon, the funeral master announced loudly, ‘begin the procession,’ and mourners swept intothe fields like a human tide, followed by the yu family bier, moving slowly towards them like afloating iceberg. large open tents in which sumptuous road offerings were displayed had beenplaced on both sides of the road every couple of hundred yards. cavalry troops led by fivetroubles formed a guard on either side of the road, galloping round and round.
a fat monk in a yellow robe, his left shoulder and arm exposed, led the procession with ahalberd from which chimes hung, twinkling as it spun around his body, sometimes flying up inthe air towards the onlookers. at least half the onlookers recognised him as the pauper monkfrom the tianqi temple who never burned incense and never chanted the buddha’s name,preferring to drink great bowlfuls of wine and boldly partake of meat and fish. he kept a skinnyyet uncommonly fertile little woman, who presented him with a whole brood of little monks. heopened a passage through the crowds by flinging his halberd at their heads, his face beaming.
an iron society soldier followed, holding a long pole with a spirit-calling banner woven fromthirty-two white strips of paper, one for each of grandma’s years; it fluttered and snapped,though there wasn’t a breath of wind. then came the banner of honour, held ten feet in the air bya strapping young iron society soldier, its white silk ornamented with large black letters:
casket of the woman dai, 32-year-old wife of yu zhan’ao, guerrilla commander of northeastgaomi township, republic of china.
behind the banner of honour came the lesser canopy, in which grandma’s spirit tablet lay, andbehind that, the great canopy encasing her coffin. sixty-four iron society soldiers marched inperfect cadence to the mournful strains of the funeral music. father, white mourning hood overhis head and shoulders, a willow grief-stick in his hand, was being carried by two iron societysoldiers. his desolate wails were the standard dry variety – his eyes were dry, and blank. thunderwith no rain. this sort of dry wailing was more moving than tearful shrieks, and many of theonlookers were deeply touched by his performance.
granddad and black eye walked shoulder to shoulder behind my father, their solemnexpressions belying the conflicts raging inside them.
at least twenty armed iron society soldiers surrounded granddad and black eye, theirbayonets glinting deep blue under the sun’s rays. they in turn were followed by a dozenmusicians from northeast gaomi township playing beautiful music, and some men on stilts.
two lion figures brought up the rear, waving their tails and swinging their heads to the antics of abig-headed child who tumbled over the roadway.
the procession snaked along for at least two li, the going made difficult by the crowds ofpeople jamming the narrow roadway and the need to stop at each roadside tent to pay respects tothe spirits; when the coffin was halted, incense was burned, and the funeral master, bronze winevessel in hand, performed an age-old ritual, all of which combined to keep the procession at asnail’s pace.
three li outside the village, the procession stopped to pay respects to the spirits. as always, thefuneral master performed the ritual sombrely and conscientiously. all of a sudden a shot rang outat the head of the procession, and the iron society soldier holding the banner of honour slippedslowly to the ground, his bamboo pole crashing down on the onlookers by the side of the road.
the gunfire caused the crowd to scurry like ants, screaming and wailing like a raging river thathas breached its dikes.
as the sound of the rifle shot died out, a dozen or so shiny black grenades came arching out ofthe crowds on either side of the road and landed at the feet of the iron society soldiers, spewingpuffs of white smoke.
‘villagers, on your bellies!’ someone shouted.
but they were packed so tightly they could barely move, and as the grenades exploded,powerful golden blasts ripped through the sky. at least a dozen soldiers were killed or wounded,including black eye, who was struck in the hip. covering the bleeding wound with his hand, hescreamed, ‘fulai – fulai –’
but fulai, who was about father’s age, was beyond answering, beyond coming to his aid. thenight before, when father had given fulai the physician’s green marble, he’d put it in his mouthas though it were a precious gem and rolled it around with his tongue. now father saw themarble anchored in the fresh blood flowing from fulai’s mouth, as green as jade, as green asanything could ever be, emitting a radiance like the legendary fox-spirit that spat out the elixir oflife.
a piece of shrapnel hit the jugular vein of the funeral master, and he fell to the ground, hisbronze wine vessel crashing beside him and spilling its contents onto the black earth, where itturned into a light mist. the great canopy tipped to one side, revealing grandma’s black coffin.
‘fellow villagers,’ came another shout, ‘on your bellies!’ another salvo of grenades. with hisarms wrapped around my father, granddad hit the ground and rolled into a roadside ditch, wheredozens of feet trampled on his injured arm. at least half of the iron society soldiers had throwndown their weapons and were fleeing helter-skelter. the rest stood mesmerised, quietly waitingfor the grenades to explode. finally, granddad spotted a man whose face he knew throwing agrenade. it was the jiao-gao regiment! little foot jiang’s men!
another salvo of violent explosions. gunsmoke rolled up and down the roadway, dust flewinto the sky, and chunks of shrapnel shrieked in all directions, as people were cut down likeharvested grain.
granddad drew his pistol, awkwardly, and aimed at the bobbing head of the jiao-gao soldier.
he squeezed the trigger, and the bullet hit the man right between the eyes, popping his greeneyeballs out of their sockets like a pair of moth eggs.
‘charge, comrades, get their weapons!’ someone shouted from the crowd.
now that the shock had worn off, black eye and his iron society soldiers turned their guns onthe crowd. every bullet that left a barrel bit into flesh; every shell passed through at least onebody and either embedded itself in another or gouged a lovely curving scar in the black earth.
granddad scanned the faces of the jiao-gao troops. they were struggling like drowning men,and the looks of rapacious brutality hit granddad like a knife in the heart. one after another, hesmashed their faces with awesome precision, confident that he hit no innocent bystanders.
in the village, a bugle sounded the charge, and granddad saw a hundred or more shoutingjiao-gao soldiers running towards them, waving rifles, swords, and clubs behind their leader,little foot jiang. in the sorghum field to the south, five troubles smacked his dappled horse onthe rump and took off at full speed, leading his troops. the iron society soldiers reformed rankson granddad’s shrill orders and, taking cover behind the cover of funeral flags and memorialtents, fired at little foot jiang’s men.
granddad’s iron society recruiting exploits had seriously depleted the jiao-gao strength; yetthe poorly armed soldiers advanced courageously, filled with the spirit of sacrifice, and even astheir comrades were cut down by bullets, they charged, brandishing primitive weapons good onlyfor hand-to-hand combat. they came in waves, awesome in their display of defiance as theyoverran the iron society soldiers. as soon as they were within range, the jiao-gao soldiers hurledgrenades, routing the panicky iron society soldiers, who were pursued mercilessly by shrapnelthat ripped their flesh.
as he watched the rout of his soldiers, five troubles grew anxious and confused. angrily, hehacked at the men around him, while his horse bit anyone within range, like a dog. he led hiscavalry troops onto the road, only to be met by a salvo of wooden-handled grenades lobbed bythe jiao-gao regiment. years later, granddad and father would recall the practised way the jiao-gao soldiers used their grenades, much as a chess master recalls his defeat at the hands of aninferior opponent who has employed a trick move.
as they retreated towards the black water river that day, father was hit in the buttocks by areconditioned bullet from a beat-up old hanyang rifle fired by a jiao-gao soldier. granddad hadnever seen a bullet wound quite like it. since the jiao-gao regiment was so short of ammunition,they collected their spent cartridges after each battle to make new shells. whatever dogshitmaterial they used for the bullet, it melted by the time it left the muzzle, and pursued its targetlike a gob of warm snot.
the latest salvo of hand grenades cut a swath through five troubles’ cavalry troops, sendingthe men flying and the horses tumbling. five troubles’ dappled mount jumped into the air with apitiful whinny and threw its rider into a shallow ditch beside the road. no sooner had fivetroubles crawled out than he spotted some jiao-gao soldiers coming at him with glisteningbayonets. after aiming his submachine gun, he opened fire and cut down about ten of them.
but three jiao-gao soldiers, gnashing their teeth in anger, buried their bayonets in the chestand belly of the man who had caused the deaths of so many. five troubles grabbed one of theheated barrels with both hands and lurched forward. his black eyeballs rolled up and disappearedin his head, and a stream of hot blood emerged from his mouth. the jiao-gao soldiers, straininghard, withdrew their blood-drenched bayonets from five troubles, who remained standing for aninstant before settling slowly into the ditch, where the sun’s rays shone down on the fineporcelain whites of his eyes.
the extermination of the cavalry unit shattered the iron society soldiers’ morale. those whohad fought on stubbornly behind the cover of funeral flags broke and fled to the south, draggingtheir rifles behind them, and not even granddad’s and black eye’s commands could hold them.
heaving a long sigh, granddad wrapped his arms around father, then took off toward the blackwater river, firing as he ran.
the valiant warriors of the jiao-gao regiment collected the iron society soldiers’ abandonedweapons and mounted the chase, little foot jiang in the lead. granddad scooped up anabandoned japanese ‘38’ rifle, threw himself down behind a pile of dung, and pulled back thebolt to send a cartridge into the chamber. his racing heart made his shoulder jerk up and downand caused little foot jiang’s head to slip in and out of his sights. so he aimed for the chest, justto be on the safe side. when the rifle fired, father heard the crack and saw little foot jiang’sarms fly out as he fell headlong to the ground. the troops behind him threw themselves down interror. that was what granddad was waiting for; grabbing father by the arm, he ran like the windto catch up with his retreating men.
granddad’s shot had hit little foot jiang in the ankle. a medic rushed up and bandaged it forhim, and, with iron determination, he ordered, ‘get moving, forget about me, follow them! i wanttheir weapons! every last one of them. charge, comrades!’
invigorated by little foot jiang’s exhortations, the jiao-gao soldiers jumped to their feet andmounted an even more furious chase in the face of the occasional round fired their way. theexhausted iron society soldiers, not wanting to run any more, threw down their weapons andwaited to surrender.
‘fight!’ granddad bellowed. ‘pick up your guns and fight!’
‘commander,’ a young soldier said, ‘don’t make them madder than they already are. theyonly want our weapons. let’s give them what they want, so we can all go home and plant oursorghum.’
black eye fired a shot, and the jiao-gao soldiers responded with a fusillade of fire from threesubmachine guns, wounding three iron society soldiers and killing another.
black eye was about to fire another shot when a burly iron society soldier wrapped his armsaround him. ‘that’s enough, commander,’ the man said. ‘don’t provoke those mad dogs.’
the jiao-gao troops were nearly upon them when granddad reluctantly lowered his rifle.
just then a machine gun began barking like a dog from behind the black water river dike. aneven more brutal fight awaited the iron society and jiao-gao regiments on the other side of thedike.
