Many times in the recent past, Communist forces have tested Kinmen's defenders, attempting to put the isle under the Red flag. In the forty-four days following August 23, 1958, Communist artillery rained 479,554 shells on the island. Now, two and a half decades have passed, and Kinmen stands, proud and thriving.
In the following pages, FCR staff writer Beatrice Hsu takes us on a visual tour of the island; Scott Wang reports on his discussions with Wu Kuei-lin, a general-turned Magistrate of Kinmen County.
A person who has never seen Kinmen (Quemoy, in the southern Fukien Province dialect, the Republic of China's fortress islet in viewing distance of the Communist mainland), usually imagines it as devastated and desolate, like the fortified frontlines in so many war movies. Strange, then, the sight of the real Kinmen—beautiful, an islet of tremendous charm.
In Yeh Shan's Collected Essays, an anthology, the contemporary poet Yang Mu discusses Kinmen's image, imaginary and real, from the vantage of his 1963 duty as a reserve officer on the frontline islet:
Have you ever faltered in the dark ...feared ... seriously worried?
Well, life itself is not a worry. Life is recognition, gained in the midst of smiles ... or tears. The moment laughter stops, or tears are wiped away, we grow a little, leaving fear behind.
Such an experience have I now in Kinmen, this small islet glowing in the remembered flames of battle. Before I came, apprehension and anxiety filled my heart. I was hesitant, fear-filled, nerve-tingled until, that day, I fitted my foot to this soil; saw with my own eyes, mid the yellows of its sands and greens of its trees, long-dreamed-about wellhouses from the ages and, there between webbed roof beams, those antique storm lamps I craved so madly. Oh, how magic is life, and loveable. Touching and wonderful, the high tides piling.
More than a score of years later, though the well houses and storm lamps have largely given way to more useful, if less-romantic, running water and electric lights, the modern Kinmen still radiates that marvelous luster of old China. Here and there, a graceful old village house, an aged banyan tree, a moss-covered well, an ox-drawn plow—vestiges of a treasured, faded lifestyle which was at once so unbelievably simple and down-to-earth ... so eminently satisfying.
Kinmen's spearhead position on freedom's frontline is also constantly discernible—air-raid shelters along a runway of Shang-I Air Force Base, barbed wire entanglements hung with tattle-tale tin cans on both sides of Kinmen's country roads, soldiers directing traffic at crucial intersections. Though the bloody thunder of Peking's odd-number-day shellings faded in 1979, unless the wind brings the tiresome voices from the Communist loudspeakers on the nearby mainland shore, a peaceful silence dominates most districts of Kinmen most of the time. Though the shadow of renewed Communist Chinese war fever is always there, the people of the islet, tempered in yesteryear's shellings, live unruffled lives.
On the roadside, military personnel, cleaning up the environment or carrying out civil engineering projects, were the most common "street people" we saw. Obviously, they have contributed significantly to the islet's extensive greenery, its tidy roadways, its modern structures, and of course its security... and its wealth-they are the major patrons of Kinmen's merchants.
Though the rare sunshine of early spring now gentled the sea air, of the island's 50,500 civilian residents, few were to be seen walking the streets, even in Kincheng (City of Gold) and Shanwai (Beyond the Mountain), Kinmen's two largest towns. "Where are they hiding?" —The question itched in my mind.
The Chukuang Hall, a memorial to Kinmen's gallant defenders.
Actually, I found, they were in the schools, on fishing boats, in Kinmen's noted distillery, in the ceramic workshops, on the farms, studying or working. Except for the very elderly and the very young, nobody in Kinmen is idle during working hours. But the off-duty hours of early morning and evening are something else.
In the early morning sea-haze, little primary school boys were playing baseball, their exuberant delight touching to observe.
Under the big, red setting sun, chirpy farm women wended homeward; in the shade of a leafy tree, an ox lay comfortably, taking a rest.
According to Father Ferreira, an Argentine priest whose pastoral flock is centered in Kincheng, Kinmen is so close and friendly a community, that people recognize each other's cars, motorcycles, and even dogs. As a proximate result of such a warm environment and a meaningful justice system, he said, "You don't have to lock your door at night. Anybody who steals here gets only one chance—one and no more." Also, juvenile delinquency and other urban evils do not root in this land of neighbors. The local courts and police stations are quiet retreats.
On the other hand, as is characteristic of many very remote areas, Kinmen's children are perky bumpkins. As we, strangers, strolled about on their streets, they pursued us everywhere, laughing and yelling, their cheeks reddened by the chill sea breeze-a marked contrast to the restrained behavior of children, even in the countryside, on Taiwan.
Kinmen's friendly elders are also outgoing; they seem to enjoy telling their own stories very much, and through them, we learned much about the islet's society.
At a public home for the aged, a 71-year-old introduced himself as Mr. Hung and told us that he had left his wife, a son, and three daughters behind on the Chinese mainland in 1949, when he followed the Republic's armed forces to this islet. He and many others newly resident here did not marry again because they could never give up hoping for family reunions.
Hsieh Hsiang, 77, said she was alone in the world now. At 30, still newly married, she saw her husband off at the port for a business trip abroad. He never returned. Her's was a typical tragedy of Kinmen's past, when the island was all but barren, forcing, over the years, massive emigration.
Today, though Kinmen is transformed, many career-bent young people leave for the urban centers of Taiwan. An old couple vegetable gardening in Chengkung told us that six of their eight children were now in Taiwan. Asked why they stayed behind, they replied indignantly, "Why, this is the land of our fathers, grandfathers, and their fathers; here are our roots."
Chinese settlers first put down roots in Kinmen many centuries ago, during the early Tsin Dynasty (265-420 A.D.) when the five northern-border tribes invaded central China, and six clans—surnamed Su, Chen, Wu, Tsai, Lu, and Yen—migrated to the island. Then in the year 803, Chen Yuan, who had been a Tang Dynasty (618-907) commissioner for horses, was appointed to develop the isle, and his activities brought further swarms of mainland immigrants.
Sika deer evade visitors at a deer ranch.
Kinmen was then known as Wuchow. It did not get its present name until 1387, when Marquis Chou Te-hsing of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) built defensive walls, towers, and earthworks on the isle and renamed it Kinmen (Golden Gate), signifying "an Impregnable Fortress of Gold, and a Magnificent Water-Passage-Control Gate."
Ancient ruins and edifices—and trees—dot the island, fragrances from its long history. In Kincheng, a Ching Dynasty (1644-1911) stone arch grandiosely honors the virtuous wife of General Chiu Chih-jen. Widowed just thirty-five days after her marriage, she bore and raised his son Chiu Liang-kung by herself, then went on to make significant contributions to local government.
The tomb of King Lu of the Ming Dynasty and the shrine of his colleague, General Koxinga, are historical testimony to great deeds of old. The then-Prince of Lu and General Koxinga established a base on Kinmen for planned military campaigns to expel the Dutch from Taiwan, but above all to bring down the Ching Dynasty of the Manchus and restore the Ming Emperor.
The environs of the Hai Yin Temple.
Atop Mt. Taiwu stands Hai Yin Temple (Miraculous Temple on the Sea). It is a significant magnet for Buddhist pilgrims. Established during the reign of Emperor Tu Tzung (1265-1274) of the Sung Dynasty, it has looked down on seven centuries. Kuanyin, the Goddess of Mercy, hears pilgrims' prayers here.
Visitors to Kincheng note an old lane shaded by the widespread branches of a row of stout, gnarled banyan trees, bearded denizens that are the oldest living things on the island. Having gone through so many battles of old and witnessed so many startling social changes, they could be excellent sources of old lore if we could but understand the whispers of their leaves.
Of all the representatives of the past in Kinmen, the best preserved and the greatest in magnitude is, unquestionably, the Folk Village at Shanhou in the isle's northeastern section.
Originally a residential compound for the Wang clan, it was constructed in the classic southern Fukien style in 1900 by Wang Kuo-chen and his son Wang Ching-hsiang, two emigrants from Kinmen who became successful overseas businessmen and generous supporters of Dr. Sun Yat-sen's 1911 National Revolution. There are sixteen family homes, a school house, and a family shrine.
When poet Yang Mu surveyed the compound in 1963, long abandoned and in desolate disrepair, he remarked on a "shock of classicality" and the "bitter beauty of the Sung."
The poet saw risen in its delicate black gates and golden horizontal inscription board (its message long peeled off), essences of the Sung Dynasty (960-1279), an age of massive Chinese achievement in literature and the arts— "bitter," because of its military inadequacy and resultant wounds.
The compound was reconstructed as a tourism attraction in 1980. The wrecked buildings and ruined gardens have given way to a perfect re-creation of that traditional southern Chinese architecture which we still survey with such delight in thread-bound old Chinese books.
Upturned eaves rise in layers, one after another, above neatly laid out red brick walls. Long, long lanes lead to unknown corners. Horseback roofridges, sculpted window lattices, decorated roof brackets, crossbeams, columns, and dangling lanterns delight the eye. Gaily-colored wall decorations and antique interior furnishings add the lively ambience of old China.
The village is also a museum: a bridal sedan chair, tea utensils, musical instruments, a dancing lion costume, swords, bows and arrows, old plows, fishing nets, looms, steamers, peddler's drums, wine urns, odd and ordinary daily necessities of the past.
The central highway of Kinmen, unlike those many country roads which rise and fall with undulant terrain, is very smooth and straight. Paved in concrete, at first sight, I almost thought it a slabstone road of ancient China. Pine-look-alike casuarinas line its right-of-way.
Though it lacks the hardy, vigorous air of the mature pine, the casuarina has its own attractions. In Kinmen, this windbreak plant can be seen everywhere, along with acacia trees, maples, and many others, as a result of afforestation efforts starting in 1950.
It is hard to believe that there are more than eighty million trees today on Kinmen islet, almost all of which have been planted by hand. In an environment subject to 940-millimeters of annual rainfall, and a barren-land 1,770-millimeter yearly evaporation rate, the value of the trees is evident.
There are special plantings—the Banyan Garden, in which stout hanging roots of an aged banyan have been gradually grown into natural "pillars" for a natural banyan pavilion; and at the Chung-Shan Recreation Center, a stretch of casuarina forest, an excellent place for a walk: sunlight sifts through the sprigs to paint shining streaks on the soft "pine" -needle-clad ground; unseen birds twitter and chirp.
Until recent years, sweet potatoes were almost the sole crop yielded by the then-barren land of Kinmen. Today, there are regular and sweet potatoes, corn, peanuts, wheat, barley, and various vegetables (Kinmen cabbages and the radishes being particularly famous), and the renowned kaoliang (a grain sorghum)—Kinmen's kaoliang wine has spread its fame worldwide, and Kinmen's kaoliang-cultivating farmers are, accordingly, very well-to-do.
There are more than two hundred fishing boats and sampans. The seafood specialties that enjoy the greatest reputation are oysters and yellow croakers. Still, on a bitter-chilly winter night, a dish of properly-cooked fresh crabs with a small cup of potent kaoliang is, to many, the most wonderful enjoyment on the island.
Kinmen not only raises cattle, but enough to provide a lucrative trade in beef exports to Taiwan. And the fragrance of a steaming bowl of Kinmen's beef-noodle soup is something to behold.
Nevertheless, Kinmen's special product is its kaoliang wines, often bottled in fine ceramics.
The distillery utilizes the clear, sweet water of a spring at the nearby Pao Yueh (Treasure Moon) Temple and its own grain sorghum to make its famous wine. In addition to white (normal) and yellow (old) kaoliang liquors, the Kinmen Distillery produces six varieties of medicinal sorghum-based liquors, considered of particular benefit to sufferers from rheumatism. Currently, two-thirds of the isle's wines are shipped to Taiwan, and through Taiwan, to the United States, Canada, Japan, Singapore, and Hongkong.
Actually, people collect wines from Kinmen not only because of their flavors, but for their containers-ceramic figures of the men and women of the Kinmen Self-Defense Garrison, of tanks, of the God of Longevity, of symbolic animals of the Chinese astrological cycle, and many more, all of them from the Kinmen Ceramic Factory.
Originally established to fill the needs of the Kinmen Distillery, the ceramic factory gradually also developed fine, artistic ceramics of its own designs. Now, in cooperation with the National Palace Museum, it is exclusively licensed to do reproductions of ancient national treasures in the museum collection. "To seek the future in the perspective of the past," hi-tech manufacturing techniques have been adapted to production of the various glazes, colors, and ceramic items. A major reason why the Kinmen Ceramic Factory has developed is the existence of bountiful and high grade island deposits of kaolin, feldspar, and quartz.
Architectural shapes and texture along a Kinmen Folk Village lane.
Along with the kaoliang and ceramics, Tribute Candies (a peanut-candy specialty of Kinmen) and other island products are distributed via three Kinmen Unique Products Sales Centers, in Taipei, Taichung, and Kaohsiung.
Economic successes, however, must go hand-in-hand with Kinmen's special military situation—in sight and sound of the Communist mainland. Thus, all islet civilians, on reaching 16, become members of the Self-Defense Garrison, which is divided into various teams according to age, sex, and vocation. Girls receive about one month's training at nursing and psychological warfare each year until marriage, and boys, standard military training. All training courses are scheduled during non-school, non-work hours.
Despite the myriad fortifications, air-raid shelters, wire entanglements, and soldiers, visitors do not comprehend the real defensive capabilities of Kinmen until they go underground.
The world's most unique tourist hotel was built up in 1980 on the island. Only the facade and rear of the edifice are exposed. All 66 of its well-furnished rooms, its spacious restaurant, and a coffee shop are in the heart of a mountain. The hotel can be converted into a field hospital overnight.
Major tunnels allow even trucks and tanks access to 95-meter-high Ching Tien Ting (Atlas Hall) under Mt. Taiwu. Blasted out of solid granite, this 1,000-seat auditorium, with its natural granite walls, is a magnificent facility. Also noteworthy is the underground Marble Hospital, its 8,800 square meters equipped with complete scientific and medical facilities. It can accommodate fifteen hundred patients in time of war, though its normal ready-load is 300 beds. Forty doctors and fifty nurses now provide military personnel and civilians on the islet free and excellent medical care. Perhaps because the overall environment of Kinmen is so serene-the air is fresh, the streets quiet, the way of life unhurried—the hospital has very few present patients. Usually, only one fourth of its 300 beds are occupied.
So stands Kinmen.
When the weather is clear, the soldiers of Communist units on the other bank, only 2,310 meters away, can be distinctly seen.
From a window of our departing Boeing 727, I saw its tiny fishing boats, marking waters green as jade.... A jeweled setting for a jeweled island: Kinmen, recovered now from the flame of battle, prospering, controlling a gateway to the Taiwan Strait.