China Marine: Tsingtao Treasure

by Buzz Harcus

  "Yeah. As I recall, there were a lot of hungry people way back then. I guess Tsingtao, excuse me, Qingdao, hasn't changed that much in the past thirty years, hunger, poverty -"

  "Oh but it has, Harry," snapped Mr. Ma reacting to what he felt was an inferred slur. "You should see the way the city has grown and expanded since you Americans left us. It is vastly improved. There is much progress...much progress indeed. It's just that we had a bad grain harvest, and had to ask for foreign assistance. Isn't that right Colonel Pui?"

  "Yes," replied Colonel Pui with his always ready nod. "Mr. Ma is right. We have made great progress."

  Harry was surprised to hear the Colonel speak. His English was fluent. Apparently Mr. Ma was the head honcho. He did all the talking so the Colonel kind of blended into the background, a yes-man.

  Harry well knew the Chinese were having a rough time; millions of people and too little food. It wasn't just a grain shortage this year but for many years, and it wasn't worth getting into a negative discussion about. Instead, he decided on a different approach, one more favorable to one, Harry Martin.

  "I'd like to see the old town again," he said with a note of enthusiasm, "a chance to walk where I once walked as a youth so many years ago, a nostalgia trip, so to speak, but -" and Harry sighed deeply, " - I guess after we've unloaded the grain our ship will be leaving port and returning to the United States for the next shipment of grain. Besides, I haven't heard that we received authorization to go ashore as we did in Shanghai, so we must be sailing."

  "That can be changed, Harry, that can be changed," Mr. Ma said. He wore that famous, inscrutable Oriental smile. Turning to Colonel Pui, he spoke brusquely in Chinese. The Colonel whipped open his attache case and pulled out several official looking documents which he quickly handed to Mr. Ma.

  Skimming through the documents, Mr. Ma pulled one out, then read it. Taking a pen proffered by Colonel Pui, he signed his name to the document with a flourish, and then held it up before Harry. "Believe me, Harry, when I say I am an important man in this community —"

  "Vell, how is everyting?" came the jovial voice of Captain Andress approaching the group.

  "Very good, Captain," Mr. Ma answered. "I was just telling Harry that I am an important man in this community. To show you what I mean, and to thank you and your crew for what you have done for us, I present you with this document authorizing your crew to have shore leave in Qingdao until midnight tonight. It will give your men an opportunity to become better acquainted with our people and our new China."

  "Vunderful! Tank you very much, Mr. Ma," Captain Andress beamed accepting the document. "My men vill certainly velcome dis varm gesture of friendship." He glanced at the document. "Dis is vunderful, just vunderful."

  Mr. Ma smiled, too, pleased with the response, but did admonish, "I will ask that you remind your men to remember that they are visitors in our fair land and not to get into trouble or to cause trouble. Colonel Pui’s military personnel and our civilian police are harsh on those who break our laws."

  "Yes, of course. I shall pass along your offer of shore leave und a varning to der crew before dey go ashore."

  Mr. Ma bowed stiffly. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "It would be my pleasure to have you, Mr. Helmstrund and, of course, Harry, as my luncheon guests today. If that possible?"

  Captain Andress glanced at Harry, saw the way his eyes lit up, and replied, "Of course. Ve vould enjoy dat very much."

  "Good. I will pick you up at noon."

  With that, and apparently satisfied with the way the unloading process was proceeding, Mr. Ma and Colonel Pui excused themselves and departed. At the bottom of the gangway, Mr. Ma stopped, talking earnestly to Colonel Pui. Suddenly Colonel Pui snapped to attention, snapped off a salute, and turned heading back up the gangway. Mr. Ma entered the black Buick limousine which quickly sped away.

  A somber Colonel Pui stood off to one side observing the unloading process. He made no effort to rejoin either the captain or Harry, seeming to prefer being by himself.

  Harry drifted down to the galley, which was deserted for the moment due to the unloading process, found a couple of jellyrolls, grabbed a cup of coffee and sat off to one side munching on a roll, sipping coffee.

  Qingdao, the end of the trail. Maybe he could con Mr. Ma into showing him the city, could figure out the old route up to the compound. Hopefully, things hadn't changed that much that he couldn't figure out how to get to the cache.

  "Penny for your toughts," came the pleasant, lilting voice of Osa as she settled into the chair next to him. She looked radiant in a white short-sleeved blouse and white skirt.

  "Hi," he grinned, looking her over. "Man you look great!" He glanced around; the galley was totally deserted except for the two of them. Before she could react, he reached over, grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her close mashing his lips to hers in a warm, heady kiss.

  "Harry!" she exclaimed, breaking free, quickly looking about. "Not here. Vat is der matter vis you?"

  He laughed. "Where's your kitchen helper?"

  "He's vorking on der unloading. Vhy?"

  "Oh, nothing." He gave a casual glance about again. "I can't recall you're kitchen area. Do you give tours?"

  "Tours?" A perplexed look crossed her face.

  "How's about a tour, say now?"

  A sudden sparkle of recognition of his intent came to her eyes, and her face shown with a new radiance.

  "Yah, a tour," she giggled pulling him after her. Osa moved hurriedly through the swinging doors into the kitchen area, back to the far recesses of the kitchen where he had first touched her, had first stolen a kiss. Passionately they kissed as their hands frantically explored, buttons popping loose, buckles coming unbuckled, zippers sliding down as hands touched and teased, and their clothes fell aside. And then they were as one.

  I'm apologizing Mr. Helmstrund, Harry grunted, sweating.

  Chapter 58

  SHANTUNG UNIVERSITY: THE OLD MARINE BASE

  Promptly at noon the black Buick rounded the end warehouse and came to a stop beside the Nurad where Captain Andress, Sigmund and Harry waited. The two officers looked distinguished in dress black uniforms and braid. Harry looked equally impressive in casual slacks, opened neck shirt, sweater and his leather jacket.

  The doors of the limousine were swung wide by the attentive driver and the trio was warmly greeted by Mr. Ma. Opting to rank, as the two officers climbed into the back, Harry eased into the front seat next to the driver who immediately shifted the car into gear and headed inland away from the dock area.

  "Der men haf been informed about shore leave," Captain Andress said, addressing his remarks to Mr. Ma. "I suspect dey vill haf der ship unloaded by 1500 hours at der rate dey are vorking now." He laughed. "Dey are anxious to get into town. Vat's dat saying about a fool and dere money."

  "There is much to see in Qingdao," an amused Mr. Ma said. "We have culture, theater, movies, dance troupes, acrobats, a museum and much more."

  "Good. It vill be good for der men to go ashore. Dey vill haf a better understanding of der Chinese people und der culture," the Captain continued. "Und dey vill get all der shenanigans out of der vay before dey come back on board ship for der long trip back to Saginaw."

  "I know what you mean," Harry agreed. "I think this town has much to offer."

  "It's not vat you're tinking, Harry," chuckled Sigmund with good- natured sarcasm. "He means der men can move about, see some of der sights mentioned by Mr. Ma, get a few beers, valk around und haf a chance to relax."

  "No offense, Harry, but dose houses you vunce frequented probably no longer exist," grinned Captain Andress. He gave a good- natured wink toward Mr. Ma. "In fact, I doubt dey haf any of dose kind of vomen in Qingdao, right, Mr. Ma?"

  "Not that the authorities know of," replied Mr. Ma.

  Harry turned away from them facing front, grinning. "Where there's a will, there's a way," he whispered to himself. "Ever since Adam and Eve..."

  The limou
sine sped past the entrance to the Old Japanese Compound and on under the railroad bridge then turned sharply to the right toward the main part of town. Harry found his head swiveling from side to side recalling locations and places. Qingdao was still a bustling seaport. The streets teemed with hordes of people milling about, walking somewhat aimlessly, gawking, talking, standing in groups about the small open air markets, deftly dodging the ever present bicycles and motorized traffic in an unperturbed manner.

  The driver braked constantly, impatiently banging on the horn. His efforts were, at the least, futile. The incident reminded Harry of his recent kidnapping in Shanghai and the speed with which the driver attempted to race away. It brought a grin to his face. They were going at almost the same speed.

  As they topped a rise, Harry recognized where they were almost immediately, the main street. The car moved slowly down the street and Harry glanced around vaguely recalling old haunts.

  The car rolled to a stop at curbside, stopping before a large restaurant. Harry's mouth dropped open; it was the old Tivoli Restaurant.

  Alighting from the car, he took in the immediate area with a sweeping look. No U.S. Allies Whorehouse, no Sparky's bar, no Enlisted Men's Club. But the Tivoli, damn but it was the same as he recalled it some thirty years ago. He shook his head. Remarkable.

  "You find it interesting?" asked Mr. Ma stepping in next to Harry.

  "My God, yes! I spent a lot of time walking around this area, these streets, a lot of time. I got goose bumps just standing here, here in Qingdao, here in front of the Tivoli."

  "You may wish to return later today and once again recall pleasant memories of the past," said Mr. Ma. "For your pleasure, we are eating in the Tivoli today. They are awaiting us," he added. Leading the delegation, Mr. Ma strode briskly toward the entrance where a doorman quickly swung the door wide. A grinning, bowing maitred in starched uniform, greeted them. Turning, he led them through the restaurant to a private room at the back. A bevy of equally starched waiters stood against the far wall awaiting them, dark eyes watching intently as they approached one of the larger tables which was appropriately adorned with fresh-cut flowers.

  Crisp, starched white linen napkins, arranged in the shape of a fan, sat on an equally crisp, starched white tablecloth. Amy Vanderbilt would have been pleased at the sight, Harry thought, as he surveyed the table: everything was precisely arranged.

  "Please be seated," Mr. Ma said. At his nod, the maitred clapped his hands and the army of waiters descended upon them. Water glasses were filled, wine glasses filled.

  Rising, Mr. Ma held up his glass of wine. "This is a vintage white wine, a blend of grapes from our new winery located on the Shantung peninsula, a first for the area." Then, he led off with a toast to China, relating how China has taken the initiative to improve international relations. This was followed by a toast to the Swedish sailors for their adroit seamanship in transporting the precious cargo of grain to Qingdao. A true diplomat, Mr. Ma offered a special toast on behalf of Harry’s return to the orient, that he was the first American Marine to return to this fair city, and to their renewed friendship and his quest of adventure, whatever it may be, and that it be successful.

  Harry thanked him, getting into the spirit of the occasion, calling for a toast to the many happy times he had spent in Qingdao, the pleasure of having worked with such great men as Mr. Ma, and assuring him that although his stay in port would be short, they would meet again one day. Mr. Ma touched his glass to Harry's assuring him they would.

  A toast was offered by Captain Andress on behalf of the citizens of Sweden, and the American government for making this journey a reality.

  A gourmet meal followed served in eight courses, beginning with sliced eggs, pineapple and rice cakes, fried minced shrimp patties, soup cooked in melons with meats, nuts and chick peas, chicken breasts with vegetable inserts, green vegetable stalks with cream sauce, fried rice with pork and eggs, and a small sweet cake along with sweet rolls and oranges to top off the meal.

  Attentive waiters hovered over each guest ensuring they had plenty to eat and drink. Beyond the sing-song chattering and the table discussions could be heard the melodic strains of Chinese music.

  "Whew. I haven't eaten such a delicious meal since, I guess since the last time I ate here in the spring of 1949," Harry said pushing away from the table, patting his bulging stomach. "Excellent. Simply excellent. The Tivoli was noted for it's fine food way back then and I'm pleased to see it has retained its high standards for culinary excellence."

  "You have a good sense of recall," Mr. Ma beamed. "Did China make that deep an impression on you?"

  "Yes, it did," Harry replied after a moment. "I guess it did impress me. This was my home for almost three years. I spent a lot of time exploring this town and the outlying area, the smaller villages and rugged terrain. I especially enjoyed the Lao Shan Mountains to the north of us, the beautiful terraced hills and colorful little coves, the small fishing villages nestled along the shoreline, the people, their quaint dress, your melodic language and your warmth. Yes, I guess you can say I have fond memories of my time in Tsingtao."

  "Qingdao," Mr. Ma hastened to correct.

  Then, quick to follow on Harry's positive response, Mr. Ma added, "I hope, like you, that many other former service men will one day return to pay us a visit, perhaps bringing their families with them so all might experience our land and our peoples."

  After a momentary hesitation, he looked directly at Harry, asking, as though another thought had crossed his mind, "Is there something else that brings you back, Harry? A long lost love, a quest to recapture your youth, something else of equal value? After all, you are the first ex-Marine to return."

  Harry gave a light shake of his head, a whimsical smile coming to his face. "Correction," he said. "There are no ex-Marines, only former Marines. Naw, just dumb luck brought me back, being in the right place at the right time, getting on board Nurad which was headed for China." His smile grew more rueful. "Nothing of value here to return for, maybe a couple of blue-eyed Chinese bastards running around that'd love to see their old man, but nothing I'd deliberately come half way around the world for. At least not for a couple of bastard kids." He laughed.

  Mr. Ma was not amused, his smile having turned coldly stoic.

  Captain Andress and Sigmund offered embarrassed laughs.

  Harry sensed a pregnant pause and knew his flippant remark had caused it. How could he change the subject gracefully and get back into Mr. Ma's good graces. To his surprise it was Mr. Ma who changed the subject.

  "Are you in a hurry to get back to your ship, Captain Andress?" he asked.

  "Vell," he glanced at Sigmund, who shrugged, "not really. Everyting is under control, but I am sure you haf many demands on your time, und ve don't vant to delay you."

  "Nonsense. You are my guests today," hastened Mr. Ma. "If your appetites have been satiated, it would be my pleasure to escort you on a brief tour of our fair city."

  "As long as ve are not imposing," replied Captain Andress.

  "No. Not imposing. I look forward to it, a chance to share my city with you."

  He waved the maitre'd over to the table complimenting him on the meal and the attentiveness of his staff. "My guests are most impressed," he said as Captain Andress, Sigmund and Harry added their thanks. "Come, now, gentlemen," he said to his guests, rising, "a tour of the city awaits you."

  Outside the restaurant, Harry noted a change in the weather. The bright, warm sunlight was being overshadowed by a thin layer of clouds. This time of the year the weather could bounce from twenty below to fifty or sixty above, as it was now, only to plunge to the twenties again at night. And snow was forecast for tonight.

  The limousine moved along the harbor drive at a leisurely pace. Harry recognized the old YMCA building where he had spent so many pleasant hours. At the corner, the driver turned left heading inland up a winding road that twisted ever upwards, then straightened. Harrys heart skipped a beat: they were headed
right for the old Marine Corps compound.

  "You might find this spot of interest to you, Harry," called Mr. Ma tapping him on his shoulder. "You may recall some of those impetuous youthful days spent here." He laughed. Harry glanced back over his shoulder, grinning. "How true! How true!"

  A long chain-link fence paralleled the road for several hundred yards before terminating at the main gate. Harry was surprised to see it was still standing after all these years. He was more pleased when he saw the dip where the small stream still meandered under the fence and across the edge of their old playing field. The gap in the fence above the stream was still there. It would be like the old days coming in late from liberty, he thought, making a mental note that tonight he would use the same old routine again.

  Beyond the fence Harry could see the old field, a combination parade ground and exercise field. Today, several youths were standing about in the center of the field flying ornate kites. But, just seeing the field brought back a flood of memories, the baseball games between rival battalions and other bases; the last baseball game he played in was against the team from Guam and he played opposite his old high school buddy, Sergeant Quick. Too, the field had been the locale for any number of rough and tumble football games, all with the same intense rivalry between battalions. He could visualize muscular Corporal Black the day he stopped the Third Marine Battalion receiver with a heart-stopping tackle as he slammed into him, knocking him cold. And the old slopshoot was no more, just a grassy knoll.

  Mr. Ma ordered the driver to enter the campus through the main gate. The car swung right driving under a handsome sign heralding: Shantung University.

  "The Marine Compound has been converted back to a university," said Mr. Ma. "The Central Party determined it should be named the Shantung University. There are about five hundred students presently enrolled, with plans to double in size in the next few years. As soon as we acquire additional funding, we will provide space for more young men and women who are eligible for higher education, giving them the opportunity to advance and help China move forward as a world leader.