In the past, when we spoke of those who defended China’s skies during the War of Resistance, most people thought of Chennault’s Flying Tigers and those tall American pilots with high noses and blue eyes. Very few thought of the smaller Chinese pilots with yellow skin and black hair. During those war-torn years of resistance, they returned to the motherland, flew their war eagles through its blue skies, and fought the Japanese air bandits to the death, rendering immortal service.
They came from the Americas and from all parts of the South Seas.
One booklet① recorded the deeds of 22 overseas Chinese aviators. Two were ground mechanical engineers who maintained those mighty eagles. Apart from four bomber pilots, the rest were fighter pilots. They took part in many air battles, large and small, and all their stories are deeply moving. As the author of the booklet wrote in his closing words: “Without speaking of specific examples, people cannot feel what help the overseas Chinese actually gave the motherland.” “In the South Seas, the Americas, Europe, Australia, and even Africa, the ‘Tang people’ always remembered the motherland. Besides contributing money to buy aircraft for the motherland to fight the enemy, they continually encouraged their sons and daughters to return, resist Japan, and defend the country.”
The honored names of these overseas Chinese sons should be carved upon the monuments to the War of Resistance. They were:
United States: Mei Yichong, Zhou Yichen, Gu Jun, Lei Yanjun, Huang Panyang, Chen Ruidian.
Philippines: Wu Jinlong, Liu Lingci, Chen Weiwen.
Java: Liang Tiancheng, Chen Zhenhe, Liu Shengfang.
Siam: Hou Chen, Han Jintong.
Kuala Lumpur: Chen Yu□ (missing in the original), Ye Siqiang.
Various parts of the South Seas: Lü Tianlong, Jiang Bichuan, Huang Xinrui.
Canada: Ma Guolian.
British Muar: Lin Rizun.
Dutch Bangka Island (east of Sumatra): Xie Quanhe.
Among them, some left their hometowns for the places where they would live abroad when they were very young. Some were born overseas. Some could speak very little of the National Language. Some could not even speak Chinese. But their love for the motherland was the same, and it was strong. Take Chen Ruidian. He had only half Chinese blood, but he did not on that account set himself apart from other Chinese. He treasured his Chinese blood and took pride in being Chinese. In air combat, he was exceptionally brave and resourceful, and he was one Chinese pilot whom the Japanese air bandits feared most. Then there was Huang Panyang. He went to America at the age of six, where his father was in business. In America, he felt deeply how pitiful it was to be Chinese, so he resolved to learn a skill that could make the motherland strong. He chose aviation, entered the Portland aviation school in Oregon, and after completing his studies returned to China to take part in aerial combat.
Some of the overseas Chinese pilots came from wealthy merchant families, but they gave up the conditions that would have allowed them to live comfortably. Lin Rizun, for example, was the son of a well-known businessman in the South Seas. Others owned property and businesses where they lived and had originally belonged to the salaried class, such as Gu Jun. After studying flying at the Curtiss company in San Francisco, he worked as a test pilot in an aircraft factory. Later, he and a Swiss man jointly established a flying school in San Francisco with four training aircraft. After that, he worked with the Curtiss brothers to develop the Curtiss aircraft factory. He himself owned two training aircraft and six small airplanes, and trained more than 60 Chinese and foreign aviators. During the January 28 Incident, he returned to China with a group of overseas Chinese pilots, carrying the great ambition of driving out the Japanese invaders and defending the motherland. They intended to take part in the defense of Shanghai, but unfortunately the battle had already ended, so he transferred to the Guangdong aircraft factory. Before long, unwilling to live such a peaceful life and eager to fulfill as soon as possible his great wish to fight the Japanese invaders in bloody battle, he transferred to a flying unit. In the skies over Lanzhou, he fought the enemy in bloody battle and defended the motherland’s airspace with his life.
Fighting the Many with the Few — Using Wisdom to Shoot Down the King of Bombers
At the beginning of the War of Resistance, our air force had been established for only two years. We had only 300 fighter planes and bombers, while Japan already had more than 1,500 aircraft of various types. Therefore, in aerial combat between China and Japan, the enemy often had the greater numbers and we had the fewer; the enemy was strong and we were weak. It was combat between forces that were out of proportion. But with a fearless national spirit, on the ground Chinese infantry fought the Japanese devils with broadswords; in the air, China’s valiant aviators used courage and wisdom to battle the devil planes (dog fight).
Let us look at several of those air battles.
Beginning in February 1938, in order to gain control of the skies over the Wuhan region, the Japanese forces concentrated an air force of 10,000 men and mobilized 300 aircraft, gradually stepping up their attacks on Wuhan. On February 18, 32 enemy planes attacked Wuhan for the first time. We had only 29. After fierce aerial combat, 14 enemy aircraft were shot down. On April 29, 39 enemy planes came to attack Wuhan a second time.
On May 31, another large force of enemy aircraft attacked. Fighting the many with the few, our forces achieved another fine result and won victory for the third time. Chen Ruidian once fought six enemy planes in the sky. He was at a disadvantage and was about to be surrounded and attacked. Hardening his heart, he fixed upon the nearest enemy plane and drove straight at it. Unexpectedly, that cowardly fellow tilted his wing in an attempt to escape, but instead struck Chen’s wing. The enemy plane’s tail was damaged; it lost its balance, spun around, and fell. Chen Ruidian also had no choice but to parachute from high in the sky. This Guangdong man of only half Chinese blood had shot down six enemy planes since the fighting began on August 13. In the Battle of Jurong on August 16, 1937, the Battle of Nanxiong on June 16, 1938, and the Battle of Kunlun Pass in Guangxi, he shot down one enemy plane each time. In the defense of Wuhan, he, Zhou Lingxu, and others shot down three enemy planes. The one shot down on this occasion was an enemy Type 96 maritime reconnaissance aircraft. He was one Chinese aviator whom the Japanese air bandits feared most.
Let us next look at Huang Panyang, who returned from America. He was appointed a squadron leader and assigned the task of defending the capital, Nanjing. Beginning on August 14, 1937, for three days in succession the enemy dispatched its most elite Kisarazu Air Group, totaling 14 bombers, in an attempt to bomb our air force base. Gao Zhihang of our Fourth Pursuit Group led his aircraft to meet them. They shot down six enemy planes, and the remaining eight fled. Furious and humiliated, the enemy sent planes again and again over the next two days to take revenge, but each time they were driven back. Early on the morning of August 16, Huang Panyang was patrolling overhead when he suddenly discovered a formation of six twin-engine enemy aircraft arranged in the shape of the Chinese character 品, diving fiercely toward the airfield where our forces were stationed. Huang Panyang was delighted. For two days he had not encountered the enemy. Today he had this chance to have a good, satisfying fight.
He immediately clung tightly to one enemy aircraft and fired fiercely at it from the left rear. The enemy plane caught fire and, trailing black smoke, plunged toward the northeast side of the airfield. He then turned sharply, rolled down through the sky, intercepted another aircraft, and fired upward at its left side. The enemy plane’s fuel tank was hit, and burning gasoline gushed out like a spring. It went down nose-first. Huang Panyang could not contain his wild delight and quickly turned his aircraft around to defend the airfield. Sure enough, he saw another enemy plane circling above it, seemingly searching for a bombing target. He saw his team member Huang Zizhan hurry forward to intercept it, but unfortunately Huang had not yet finished off the enemy plane’s wretched life. Huang Panyang seized the opportunity, dived, pulled up again, and fired fiercely into the belly of the enemy plane. It immediately caught fire and fell outside the south gate of Jurong.
Let us next look at the battle for Guangzhou. Xie Quanhe, who returned to China at the age of 13, studied successively at Jinan University in Shanghai and in the teacher-training division of a commercial college, and later went to Guangdong to study aviation. In his first contest with the enemy on August 30, he and a comrade worked together to shoot down one enemy aircraft. On September 21, more than 30 enemy planes attempted to bomb Guangzhou. He led four aircraft to meet them—almost seven or eight enemy planes to each one of ours—and became locked in a bitter fight. Through his wisdom and quickness, both he and his aircraft returned safely, though his plane had been struck by 70 or 80 bullets. At Shaoguan, Xie Quanhe led a wingman against three enemy aircraft. Because they were positioned above the enemy, they rushed down from above and broke up the formation. Each then pursued an enemy plane and shot it down on the spot.
Ma Guolian was a lucky man in aerial combat. Many times, he shot down numerous enemy aircraft with apparent ease.
On February 20, 1939, a group of nine aircraft arrived over Lanzhou and appeared below Ma Guolian as he was patrolling. Captain Cen brought down the enemy’s lead plane with a single dive. The enemy aircraft scattered and fled for their lives, and one happened to be directly below Ma Guolian. Without the slightest hesitation, Ma immediately dived and shot it down. Three days later, unwilling to accept defeat, the enemy sent still more aircraft to bomb Lanzhou. Chen Jimin had attacked one enemy plane but failed to bring it down because he himself was wounded. Ma Guolian immediately attacked from the lower left and shot it down. In these two battles, the enemy lost nine heavy bombers and 63 airmen. For more than a year afterward, the Japanese air bandits no longer dared to invade the great Northwest.
On November 4 of the same year, a great formation of 54 enemy aircraft came in imposing ranks to bomb Chengdu. Several formations of our fighter planes rose into the air to meet them. Everyone coordinated closely and concentrated their attacks upon the enormous lead aircraft. After Ma Guolian had attacked two or three times, he saw two enemy planes giving off white smoke—their fuel tanks had been pierced. When the third formation under our Captain Deng Congkai went forward to attack, Ma saw the enemy’s lead plane sinking and tilting downward. But Captain Deng was also falling with the enemy plane. Colonel Aomu of the enemy air force, the fat fellow known as the King of Bombers, was burned to death, but our martyr Deng Congkai also gave his life.
Ma Guolian also shot down a Shenfeng aircraft numbered 105. It was a “national treasure” reconnaissance plane of the Japanese invaders, with 750 horsepower. A sergeant piloted it, and an officer sat in the rear seat. In the past, they had been completely unscrupulous, showing off their power and drifting leisurely through the sky. That day was New Year’s Day, 1940. The weather was clear, and Ma Guolian was on patrol with the sun behind him. The enemy Shenfeng approached head-on, flying just below Huang Panyang’s formation. Huang did not see it, but the enemy aircraft noticed our planes above and increased its throttle, vainly trying to escape. After it had flown through the airspace below Huang Panyang, it throttled back, thinking the danger had passed. It did not know that Ma Guolian had already caught it by “waiting beside the tree stump for a rabbit.” Without making a sound, he followed closely behind and opened up with a burst of fierce fire. That was the end of the enemy plane.
Giving Their Lives for the Country — Sinking the Enemy Flagship
Among the 22 overseas Chinese aviators, four were bomber pilots: Han Jintong, Jiang Bichuan, Lin Rizun, and Chen Zhenhe.
Jiang Bichuan, who returned from the South Seas, went with a bomber group to bomb Yuncheng and the enemy base entrenched at Kezigudu. Han Jintong, who returned from Siam, could no longer remember how many times he had gone to Hangzhou, Bengbu, Wuhu, Madang, Nanchang, and other places to bomb the Japanese invaders’ airfields and transportation lines. Wherever the enemy was rampant, he was ordered to go and bomb them.
Lin Rizun, who returned from British Muar, took part in the internationally known Battle of Pingxing Pass. He bombed Japanese positions and also went to bomb the Japanese forces at the Xinluan railway bridge on the Hebei plain, at Pingdiquan in Suiyuan, and in other places. At that time, autumn was ending and winter was arriving, and the weather was cold. This favored son of the overseas Chinese, accustomed to the warm currents of the tropics, rose at three o’clock every morning and endured the bone-piercing wind as he hurried to the airfield. He went to complete bombing missions against Japanese positions and transportation lines in northern China, central Hebei, and other places, assisting the army in battle.
Now let us speak of the sinking of the enemy ships Izumo and Mutsu.
On August 14, 1937, the Gao Zhihang group of our air force went out to bomb the Japanese flagship Izumo, which was anchored in the Huangpu River. The dark clouds had not yet dispersed that day when our formation suddenly appeared above the flagship. Under the cover of fighter aircraft, they dropped bombs in succession. The Japanese forces responded in panic, and their antiaircraft guns roared together. The Japanese flagship was damaged, but the Izumo was heavily armored and, though wounded, was quickly repaired.
On August 17, our air force again dispatched the Naishan unit to bomb the Izumo, staging a heroic and tragic air battle. Having learned from the previous attack, the Japanese ship was now thoroughly prepared. Amid dense gunfire, our Yan Haiwen and Shen Leqian, with no thought for themselves, flew their aircraft into the enemy ship. There was a tremendous explosion, and flames shot into the sky. Our aircraft and the Japanese ship perished together. Huang Panyang and Ma Guolian took part in the air battle, flying fighter aircraft as escorts. Ma Guolian saw two enemy planes attacking one of ours and quickly went forward to relieve it. One enemy aircraft became frightened and dived away. The other turned around to fight Ma. Ma was wounded in the right foot but persisted in flying his aircraft back. The enemy plane that attacked him was shot down by his comrade Deng Zhengxi.
① Overseas Chinese Aviators Who Defended the Motherland’s Skies, by Lin You; originally published in Ta Kung Pao, April 17–27, 1940.
Beijing — treasured in the collection of Chen Zhaofu