Episode 11: Xintai Returns to Serve as a Military Doctor, Signs of Japanese Defeat Begin to Show
11
After the two left the director’s office, Xintai said, “Abe, there is something I would like to trouble you with.”
Abe said, “Old classmate, please go ahead.”
Xintai said, “Regarding the medical supplies for that child…”
Abe said, “Don’t worry about that. I already thought of it for you. Later, have your medic come to the surgery department to get them from me.”
Xintai said, “Thanks, Abe.”
Abe said, “Go get some rest. There are two surgical cases this afternoon; I’ll have to trouble you then.”
Xintai said, “Alright.”
Xintai returned to the quarters and instructed the medic: “Sōzawa, go to the surgery department to find Chief Medical Officer Abe and bring back some of the medical supplies that A-wen will need.”
Sōzawa said, “Yes!”
Xintai added, “After you come back, when you change A-wen’s IV, add some sedative so that he can sleep a little longer, then stay here and keep him company. I have to go out with Zhiling for a while.”
Sōzawa said, “Yes, sir. I’ll go to the surgery department now.” Sōzawa left.
Xintai said, “Zhiling, I’ll accompany you back to the orphanage.”
Zhiling said, “If we both leave, no one will look after A-wen.”
Xintai said, “A-wen won’t wake up that soon. Sōzawa will be back shortly. I’ll go change into civilian clothes.”
12
Xintai accompanied Zhiling back to the orphanage and met Director Mary.
Zhiling explained that in order to save A-wen, Xintai had to return to the military hospital.
Mary said, “It’s really hard on Xintai, making such a great sacrifice for A-wen.”
Zhiling said, “A-wen has just finished surgery and is still in the critical period. Xintai has arranged for him to stay in his officer’s quarters for close care, but we need someone to remain there to help look after A-wen.”
Mary said, “Then who should go?”
Zhiling said, “I’ll go. Jenny is a nun; it wouldn’t be convenient for her to come and go there.”
Mary said, “Alright. I have also just asked someone to inform A-wen’s father. Recently there are rumors that the Allied forces will soon land. Many places in Xinshan city streets have piled up sandbags, and the civilians are scrambling to stockpile food. On the beach near here, Japanese soldiers are constructing fortifications every day…”
Zhiling said, “Regarding food, Director, you don’t need to worry. If it’s not enough, I will have my father find a way to ship it over from Lion Islet (Singapore). What I am more worried about is the safety of the children. Director, I suggest temporarily relocating the orphanage to that air-raid shelter.”
Mary said, “Your idea coincides with mine. I will start planning the relocation in the next couple of days.”
A-xing and the group of children surrounded Xintai, concerned about A-wen’s injuries.
Xintai said, “A-wen is fine now. A-xing, I’ll leave that farm to you to manage. Assign the work among them.”
A-xing asked, “Teacher Xintai, then what about you? Will you not come back anymore?”
Xintai said, “Whenever I have time, I will come back.”
A-xing said, “When you’re not here, everyone feels very bored. There’s no one to tell us stories.”
Xintai said, “When I come back, I will tell you stories, alright?”
13
Xintai and Zhiling returned to the officer’s quarters.
Xintai said, “Zhiling, I have two surgical cases later. You eat dinner first. The time of surgery is uncertain; you don’t need to wait for me.”
Zhiling said, “Alright.”
Xintai said, “There is no kitchen here. Sōzawa will deliver dinner.”
Zhiling said, “Mm.”
Xintai said, “Stay in the quarters. Don’t go into the hospital compound.”
Zhiling said, “I understand. I won’t cause you trouble.”
Xintai sat on a rattan chair and began to rest with his eyes closed. Zhiling sat beside A-wen’s bed, yet she stared at Xintai in a daze…
14
By the time Xintai finished his surgeries and returned, it was already dawn.
Sōzawa was sleeping soundly on a camp bed. Zhiling had fallen asleep leaning beside A-wen’s bed. Xintai covered Zhiling with his military coat. Zhiling woke up, looking drowsy.
Zhiling said, “You’re back? It’s already daylight. You didn’t sleep all night, did you?”
Xintai said, “Mm. I’ll wash my face and then get some sleep.”
Zhiling said with concern, “Have a good rest. Don’t wear yourself out.”
15
After waking up, Xintai sat in the living room wiping his violin. He recalled that it seemed to have been given to him by his father at their old home in Qingshui—a purely handmade violin—but beyond that, he could not recall anything else.
Zhiling came up behind him: “You can play the violin?”
Xintai said, “Mm.”
Zhiling said, “How long did you stay in Tokyo?”
Xintai said, “I studied in Tokyo. It seems about seven or eight years?”
Zhiling said, “No wonder you have a Kanto accent. When I was little, I lived at my grandmother’s house in Osaka.”
Xintai said, “You lived in Osaka?”
Zhiling said, “Yes, but I was very young then. My memories are somewhat vague. Do you have family in Tokyo?”
Xintai said, “It seems so, but I really can’t remember.”
Zhiling said, “It’s alright. You will slowly remember.”
Xintai said, “Do you want to hear it?”
Zhiling said, “I do! But will it wake A-wen? I finally got him to fall asleep.”
Xintai said, “Then let’s wait until A-wen wakes up.”
16
A military truck delivered several wounded soldiers. The medics carried them into the emergency room and handed them over to Nishikawa (Yang Xintai) and Harukawa, the two surgeons.
The medics skillfully prepared oxygen masks, defibrillators, and hemostatic bandages.
The two medical officers, together with the medics, performed emergency treatment on the wounded. Xintai chose the one who appeared to be the most severely injured, already without breathing or heartbeat.
Medical Officer Nishikawa said, “Sōzawa, give me the defibrillator. You first stop the bleeding from his wounds.”
“Yes!” Sōzawa handed the defibrillator to Nishikawa. Xintai immediately tore open the soldier’s uniform shirt and began defibrillating his heart. After several shocks, the soldier’s heartbeat finally returned.
Xintai was about to put an oxygen mask on him when the soldier spoke: “You are Yang Xintai. I am Wu Wenzhang, your old classmate. I thought you had sunk into the sea…”
Xintai said, “Don’t talk. You are very weak. I need to put the oxygen mask on you.”
Wu Wenzhang said emotionally, “Xintai, listen to me first. Yang Qinglong, who was in my unit, was shot dead in our firefight with the guerrillas. He died, his body full of bullet holes. We didn’t carry him out of the jungle…”
Xintai said, “Alright, you must listen now and receive treatment.”
Xintai put the oxygen mask on Wenzhang, but before he finished speaking, Wenzhang pulled it off again and said, “You must live and go back to Qingshui. Meixiu is waiting for you!”
Upon hearing “Meixiu,” Xintai felt as if his heart had been pricked by a needle, a sharp pain shooting through—but he did not forget what he needed to do now: “rescue.”
Xintai put the oxygen mask back on Wenzhang and then said, “Sōzawa, this one has multiple gunshot wounds. He must receive a blood transfusion immediately. Send him into the operating room at once.”
Sōzawa said, “Yes, sir.”
Xintai said, “Harukawa, these others with lighter injuries, I’ll leave them to you.”
Harukawa said, “Yes, senior. Much obliged.”
At that moment, a medic walked toward Medical Officer Nishikawa.
The medic said, “Report, Medical Officer. Colonel Suzuki Takeo, commander of the artillery battalion, is injured. Please go and attend to him.”
Xintai said, “I’ll go right away. Sōzawa, start his transfusion and send him into the operating room. Prepare the instruments and wait for me. I’ll be back shortly.”
In the examination room, Colonel Suzuki was reclining on a bed.
The medical officer said to him, “Colonel Suzuki, after my examination, your injury is only superficial and not serious. After the medic bandages it later, you may return to your unit to rest.”
“Is that so? But the wound on my abdomen hurts a lot. I feel like there is shrapnel inside,” Colonel Suzuki said in a doubtful tone.
“Colonel, the X-ray machine here is broken, so we cannot take an X-ray for you. If there is indeed shrapnel inside, it is usually impossible to locate it by palpation alone. The only way would be surgery to remove it. But if there isn’t, you would undergo surgery for nothing,” Xintai explained patiently.
Suzuki asked, “Then what should I do?”
Xintai said, “In this situation, I would suggest you go back and rest, observe for two days. If there is no bloody stool, it means you do not have internal bleeding, and there is no shrapnel inside.”
Suzuki said, “I want to stay here for two days, so that the medical officer can observe my condition at any time.”
Xintai said, “I’m afraid that is not possible. There are not enough beds here. The available beds must be reserved for critically ill patients. You should return to your unit to rest. If something happens, you can be sent back here.”
“Why can’t I stay here? I am Colonel Suzuki Takeo, commander of the artillery battalion. General Kawano, the corps commander, is my uncle!” Suzuki said arrogantly, believing that with such status, the medical officer should arrange a bed for him.
“Who General Kawano is to you is none of my concern, nor do I wish to know. I make my judgment based on my professional expertise. If you insist on staying here, fine. Medic!”
While speaking to Suzuki, Xintai called a medic in from outside the examination room.
The medic said, “Yes, sir. What are your orders?”
Xintai instructed, “Bring a stretcher and carry this colonel to the inpatient area. Set up a temporary bed for him in the corridor using wooden crates.”
“Baka yarō! You little medical officer, how dare you treat me so rudely!? What is your name!?” Colonel Suzuki shouted angrily at Xintai.
“I still have a surgery to perform. I don’t have time to waste with you. Medic, give him a sedative injection, then take this rude monkey away.”
With that, Xintai stood up and left the examination room, walking toward the operating room without turning his head back, leaving behind the incessantly cursing Colonel Suzuki.
17
In the surgical ward, Medical Officer Nishikawa was making rounds when a messenger entered:
“Report, Officer Nishikawa, Director Matsushita requests that you come to the director’s office.”
“I’ll go immediately after finishing my rounds,” Xintai replied.
Xintai arrived at the director’s office and raised his hand to knock lightly.
“Come in,” came Matsushita’s voice.
Xintai pushed the door open: “Teacher, you were looking for me?”
“What on earth were you doing? Do you realize you’ve caused trouble!” Director Matsushita looked grave.
Xintai asked, “What happened?”
“Just now, General Kawano’s adjutant called, saying that not only did you refuse to arrange a hospital bed for Colonel Suzuki, you even took the opportunity to humiliate him. The commander will personally come to inspect tomorrow morning and will also summon you to understand what happened.” Director Matsushita spoke in a serious tone, as if the situation were severe.
“Teacher, I thought it was something serious—so it’s just that monkey Suzuki who bullies others with his power.” Xintai looked completely unconcerned.
“Tetsuhiko, how can you call him a monkey? Absurd!” Matsushita’s face darkened, clearly displeased.
“That fellow suffered nothing more than a minor flesh wound, yet he demanded a hospital bed. If the Great Japanese Empire has soldiers who fear death and hardship like that, defeat is inevitable!” As soon as Xintai said this, Matsushita’s face turned pale. However, being experienced, although he found the words harsh, upon reflection he felt there was some truth to them.
“Tetsuhiko, I am your teacher. You may only say such things to me. I understand your views and temperament, but now we are under someone else’s roof. At the very least, we must give the host some face. There is no need to rigidly uphold principles at every turn. Timely concessions and moderate compromises can instead prevent disputes or resolve conflicts. Listen to me—don’t bring trouble upon yourself.” Director Matsushita advised him tactfully from the perspective of experience. Xintai, being young and headstrong, naturally had sharp edges, but Matsushita did not want him exposed to danger—especially danger of his own making. Xintai understood this protective intent.
Xintai softened his attitude: “Teacher, please forgive my impulsive words just now. I know you do not want me to bring trouble upon myself or fall into danger. I will remember your advice.” Xintai himself felt he had spoken too harshly, and that Teacher Matsushita was acting out of goodwill.
“That’s better. Temper your temper a bit—don’t always speak so bluntly, or it will bring trouble upon you,” Matsushita said, somewhat relieved.
“Teacher, is there anything else? If not, I’ll return to my post,” Nishikawa said calmly after cooling down.
“There is one more thing, Tetsuhiko. I must remind you: the matter of you treating and secretly sheltering that injured child must be handled with caution. I have already summoned the few medical orderlies who know the situation and instructed them to keep it strictly confidential—not a word must leak out.” Matsushita revealed that he already knew Xintai had violated regulations, reminding him while also letting him know that protective measures had been taken.
“Teacher, I was simply acting according to a doctor’s conscience. All lives are equal in value. Until I am completely powerless, I am willing to make every effort to save every life. A doctor’s duty is to save lives,” Tetsuhiko said emotionally.
Because what the Imperial University Medical School had taught him was not only medical skills, but also medical ethics. And for Matsushita’s constant consideration on his behalf, Xintai felt grateful, though he did not say it aloud.
“Tetsuhiko, what you say is not wrong. Every doctor should have such humanitarian spirit and professional conscience—to respect life and take seriously every person’s right to live. Otherwise, one is merely a machine for treating injuries and illness. But do not forget two things. First, this is wartime. On the battlefield, life is permitted to be squandered at will. There will always be more lives than can be saved, and those that cannot be rescued in time will vanish in helplessness and regret—and you and I each have only two hands. Second, do not forget your identity as a soldier. Obedience to orders is a soldier’s duty and obligation. Your words and actions must be constrained by collective discipline.” Director Matsushita analyzed rationally, trying to make Xintai face reality and recognize the environment he was in.
“I know. But I would rather forget my current dual identity. I detest war. War distorts human nature and turns everyone’s conscience into detestable lies! And I… increasingly despise myself, because I am losing my principles more and more!” Tetsuhiko felt that by finally voicing these long-suppressed feelings, he might no longer feel so oppressed, so lonely and lost.
“Sigh… Tetsuhiko, I feel exactly the same and fully understand. Back then, Army General Staff intended to select me to join ‘Unit 731’ to conduct live human experiments in Northeast China. I refused—you know the reason. Nishikawa Tetsuhiko, in this lifetime I have formed an unbreakable bond with your Nishikawa family. If not for your grandfather, my mentor Professor Nishikawa Qiao, who imparted everything he knew, there would be no surgeon Matsushita Daisuke today. And your father and I, though university classmates, were like brothers. You may not know: when you were conscripted in Taiwan, your father sent me a telegram asking me to keep you by my side. I immediately wrote to the Taiwan Governor-General’s Office, requesting that after your basic training you be directly assigned to my military hospital. And in my reply to Professor Nishikawa, I voluntarily stated that if I could not bring you back to Taiwan unharmed and personally return you to your father, I, Matsushita, would atone with my life. Publicly, I am your superior; privately, I am your teacher and your uncle. Therefore, although I knew you violated regulations by treating that child, I neither interfered nor pursued responsibility. My subordinates have inevitably criticized me for this in private. But this time is different. I fear that if General Kawano learns of your violation, he may make an issue of it due to your earlier disrespect toward his nephew, Colonel Suzuki, and hand you over to military court. At that point, even I would be powerless to protect you!” Matsushita laid out, in full detail, all his concern and responsibility toward the descendant of his mentor and the son of his close friend.
Xintai listened carefully to every word, feeling both moved and ashamed. With reddened eyes he said:
“Teacher, I know what to do. Once the child’s condition stabilizes, I will send him away immediately. Thank you for your care—I will not put you in a difficult position again…”
18
After completing routine rounds and inspections, at nine in the evening, dragging his exhausted body, Medical Officer Nishikawa slowly walked back to the dormitory. Behind him followed his trusted orderly Zongze, who carried a bag over his shoulder and a suitcase in his other hand.
After knocking three times twice in succession, Zhiling came to open the door—this was their agreed signal.
The three came to Awen’s bedside. The orderly Zongze opened the suitcase; inside the small space were syringes, glass vials of injectable medicine, bottled pills, antiseptic solutions, gauze… no fewer than forty or fifty items, neatly arranged.
Zongze handed over scissors. Xintai sat by the bed and skillfully cut open the gauze at the wound, gently peeling off the dressing. Then Zongze passed cotton swabs, antiseptic solution, white medicinal powder, fresh pads, and gauze in sequence. The dressing change was completed in less than ten minutes.
Zhiling watched every movement and procedure carefully, committing them to memory. She knew she would have to take over this routine task in the future.
Afterward, Xintai measured the child’s temperature and pulse, then took the stethoscope hanging around his neck. Asking Zongze to help lift Awen, he carefully listened across the chest, abdomen, and back. Only then did he raise his head and smile at Zhiling, indicating the child’s recovery was going well.
“Medical Officer Nishikawa…” Zhiling wanted to understand more.
“Call me Xintai. There are no outsiders here—no need for formality,” he said, letting out a breath.
“Xintai, Awen he…”
“Awen is doing well. Now he just needs time to recover. This child has strong vitality,” Xintai said. Though meant as praise, Zhiling felt a lump in her throat, thinking how, in wartime, an orphan like a fragile plant could endure such injury and survive—perhaps even Satan could not bear it and showed mercy.
“It’s fine. I’ll go bathe and change. Zongze.” Xintai turned toward the living room.
“Yes, Medical Officer!” Zongze stood at attention.
“Have the kitchen prepare some meat porridge and snacks. Send the snacks to Miss Zhang’s room. Feed the child after the porridge, then rest. If he’s still asleep, don’t wake him.” Xintai gave brief instructions.
“Yes, I will follow your orders. Please rest early, sir,” Zongze replied respectfully.
19
“Attention! Salute…!” As two military vehicles stopped at the hospital entrance, the guards called commands.
Nearly twenty accompanying soldiers jumped down from the larger truck, forming a protective circular formation. Three officers stepped out of the smaller vehicle. One, wearing a black cloak, about fifty years old, lean and tall.
Director Matsushita stepped forward to greet them. All hospital staff lined up and applauded.
“Report! Major General Matsushita Daisuke, director of the military hospital, together with all medical staff and personnel, welcomes Lieutenant General Kawano and Chief of Staff Sato to inspect!” he announced loudly.
Matsushita accompanied them, introducing doctors one by one. General Kawano shook hands with each. Colonel Suzuki followed at the rear.
When Nishikawa was introduced, he merely extended his hand without bowing. Matsushita frowned.
“This is Captain Nishikawa Tetsuhiko, graduate of Tokyo Imperial University, formerly resident surgeon in thoracic surgery, currently attending surgeon in our department.”
“You are Professor Nishikawa Qiao’s grandson?” Kawano asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Young doctors willing to serve on the front line are commendable,” Kawano said, patting his shoulder.
“Thank you, sir. I will uphold my duty.”
Kawano smiled: “My daughter Sakurako’s heart valve surgery—you performed it?”
“Yes.”
“She recovered well and is now a mother. You are her savior.”
“I am honored. Saving lives is a doctor’s duty.”
