he did.
‘But contrary to the criticism heaped on Braun, he did not make the mistake of ordering the Red Army to sit in the trenches and wait for the enemy,’ Huang went on. I remembered how he had argued this so convincingly in his thought-provoking articles. The Comintern had in fact instructed the Red Army to play to its strength of mobile and guerrilla warfare.
From past experiences, the Red Army has achieved many victories in mobile warfare, but suffered considerably when it forced frontal attacks in areas where the enemy had built blockhouses … You should not engage in positional warfare, and should move behind the enemy …13
Braun agreed entirely: ‘As to positional warfare, whatever form it took, it was not suitable. We were all absolutely clear about it.’14 He tried to draw the enemy out of their turtle-shells and then launch short, sharp blows to wipe them out. But the trouble was that the enemy refused to come out unless they had full covering fire on the ground and from the air, often with three or four divisions together within 10 kilometres. This made it hard for the Red Army to concentrate enough men and deal them a fatal blow, hard though it tried. Even Chiang noticed this tendency: ‘When we fight the bandits now, they rarely confront us in positional warfare; they frequently attack us by guerrilla tactics.’15 The battle of Guangchang in April 1934 was an exception, when Soldier Huang and almost the entire Red Army were stuck in their trenches for a month up against the blockhouses. It was the first time this happened, but the battle was not Braun's idea, as he made very clear in his memoir:
The Party leadership considered it a strategically critical point because it barred the way into the heart of the Soviet area. The leadership also believed that unresisting surrender would be politically indefensible.16
Zhou Enlai agreed with Braun:
Every comrade must realize, the plan by the enemy to take Guangchang is different from the previous four campaigns. It is a strategic step in their penetration into the heart of the Soviet base; it is the key to their overall offensive. We must fight to defend Guangchang.17
I had talked to the veterans and the expert, and it was clear to them why they lost, but in seventy years, with so many books on the subject, the same argument is still used: if Mao did not lead it, the Revolution would fail. To support this theme, history had to be made to fit the theory. At least militarily, even Mao learned from mistakes, as his memoirs make clear. The Party was only twelve years old, the Red Army half that, the Soviets only three years. The guidance coming from the Comintern was often not based on Chinese reality. Naturally there were mistakes, but a scapegoat was found on whom all the blame for losing the Fifth Campaign was dumped.
Soon after the Guangchang battle, the Party made its decision to launch the Long March; it knew it could no longer defend the Jiangxi base – in fact it informed Moscow so in May 1934 – but some units had to hold the line so the preparations for the Long March could get under way. ‘When we moved house, it would take a few weeks. The Long March was a state on the move, with everything it might need,’ Young Huang said. ‘They had to replenish the troops, to find homes for the sick and wounded, to get together food, money and other supplies. Also where would they go? Nobody knew for sure. That was why they sent out the 6th Corps to blaze the trail, and the 7th Corps to divert the Nationalists’ attack.’
The decision to abandon the Jiangxi Soviet was made in the strictest secrecy. Only the top leaders and military commanders knew about it – Mao himself did not learn of it until August, two months before the departure. There were two fears: firstly that morale would disintegrate, and secondly that the Nationalists would find out. As late as 3 October, two weeks before the Long March, Zhang Wentian, the Chairman of the Soviet Government, continued to call on the people to fight to the end:
For the defence of our regime and of our lives, our children and babies, our land and grain, our cows, hogs, chickens and ducks, and for resistance against enemy slaughter, destruction, looting and rape, we should use our daggers, hunting guns, rifles and any sorts of old and new weapons to arm ourselves … Let our millions of worker and peasant masses become an unbreakable armed force to fight along with our invincible Red Army. We shall completely smash the enemy attack. We must win the final victory! Hold high the Soviet banner! Long live the Soviet regime.18
This is an ancient Chinese tactic known as the cicada trick: the cicada flies off after it sheds its skin in the autumn, and people are fooled by the skin, thinking it is still there.
But what did ordinary soldiers like Huang know? How far was he involved in the preparations and how much did he know about them? I was keen to find out. As if he knew I was coming, he was waiting for me in his courtyard in the afternoon, wearing a Red Army uniform, complete with octagonal cap. It suited him. ‘I thought you might like it. They gave them to us ten years ago to celebrate the sixtieth anniversary of the Long March. You know I never had a complete uniform until I finished the March!’
When did he know he was going? I asked. ‘I didn't know. Had I known it was going to be that long, I'd have come home straight away, no matter what,’ he said without the slightest hesitation. Did he have any inkling that something was coming up? He took off his cap and scratched his head. ‘Now you ask me, I think it was when I saw new uniforms for the first time. I think the autumn harvest was already in by then.’
He and his company were pulled out of the trenches in late September 1934, and brought to Yudu, which was 60 kilometres from Ruijin. New recruits were brought in to replenish the depleted company – some were older than his father. And there were new uniforms and shoes for everyone. At last he would look like a soldier rather than a beggar. He put on the jacket – it was double layered and he felt so warm, like being by a fire. He never had one like it – it was not necessary in the south, even in winter. ‘Why do we have to carry this heavy stuff? Are we going somewhere cold?’ someone asked, but did not get an answer. Huang was more interested in finding a jacket and shoes that fitted him. Sadly, the jacket was like a coat, and the shoes like boats. They were made for adults. Seeing the tears forming in his eyes, the captain led him into another room. His mouth dropped when he saw the huge stockpile – he had never see so many bullets in his life. He felt as excited as on New Year's Day, when he was given firecrackers. ‘All yours, take as many as you like,’ the captain told him jokingly. He loaded himself up, but the captain took away all but one bandolier and a few grenades. ‘You won't get very far with more than that, my son!’
Soldier Huang had his rifle across his back, a pack with five kilos of rice, a bowl, the patched jacket that his mother had given him, and an extra pair of straw sandals that the captain had made specially for him. A pair of chopsticks were thrust into his puttees. ‘We are going somewhere, aren't we?’ he asked one of the older soldiers. ‘Perhaps we'll go behind the enemy lines, and take the big towns and cities. That's what we used to do after each campaign.’ As he spoke, all the soldiers started talking at once. ‘Now we'll have meat at last.’ Ah, we're going to see beautiful women.’ ‘We'll bring back enough money to feed ourselves through the winter.’ Excitement was in the air, the gloom of the trenches had lifted.
Early one evening, when the moon was big and round, Huang and his company marched along the broad and gentle Yudu River. People came out to say good-bye. Some girls, newly wedded, were standing on tiptoe, looking about anxiously to see their husbands as they passed through. When they spotted them, they cried out with joy, only to be teased by the raucous soldiers in the company. They blushed, ran back, and watched from further off. Others, perhaps organized by the local women's association, were more bold, walking along with the soldiers, and asking, ‘What's your name? Where are you from? Can you win a medal and become a hero?’ It was the men's turn to be shy and tongue-tied. The girls laughed and burst into song:
A model soldier,
That's what I want you to be. I long for your good news day and night, My Red Army brother, Capture a few generals and make