Word: kweichow
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Half Way. At the halfway mark the supply line peters off and there comes a gap between the new army and the old. You drop from the cool Kweichow plateau into the.heat of the Kwangsi plains. From there you bump by jeep over the great swath of devastation that American construction engineers left behind when they wrecked the country in the retreat of 1944. The bridges are out, and useless railways parallel the highway in twisted shreds of destruction...
...cooperation from the Generalissimo. From the beginning, Chiang appreciated Wedemeyer's cordiality, recognized his brilliance. When the American, in a daring battle maneuver last fall, flew crack Chinese units from Burma* and the Chinese Communist border region (with Chiang's assent) to stop the Japanese advance in Kweichow, Chiang's opinion was confirmed. How well Lieut. General Wedemeyer has succeeded in the diplomatic part of his job was indicated last week when Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek accepted an invitation to be Wedemeyer's guest at supper. Not since he became President of China has Chiang ever...
...before on the dusty roads of Hunan, where the sun leeched sweat from every pore, where human bodies and the fields about them were parched moistureless. Now, 600 miles away, these refugees were still trudging-the friendless, the halt and the sick-overtaken by the merciless blast of the Kweichow winter...
...week the 16 grimly added up the results of their adventure. They had accounted for some 150 bridges, 50 roadblocks, 20 to 30 ferries, one tunnel, an assortment of locomotives, trucks, army hostels, one Catholic mission and a machine shop. But they had helped slow the Japanese advance on Kweichow, had helped save from utter disaster the great retreat in Southeast China...
Sleet-laden clouds hung like a leaden shroud over all the Kwangsi-Kweichow border area. Rime coated the tents and hutments of Chinese, Americans and Japanese alike. Icicles hung from the wings of Major General Claire L. Chennault's fighter-bombers, standing silent on the runways. For a hundred miles in every direction, columns of refugees and soldiers trudged through the hill paths and over roads broken by battle, their skin cracking with frostbite...