外省流亡曲 ──山東巴信誠的台灣經驗

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1999 / 12月

文‧李光真 圖‧巴信誠提供


國共內戰,是中國近代史上最令人掩卷泣血的一章。大陸淪陷,二百萬軍民隨著國民政府來到陌生的小島台灣,和剛剛才從日本殖民與國府「二二八事件」血腥鎮壓中驚魂甫定的島民迎面相交。本省人也好、外省人也罷,大時代中的小人物故事,散發著堅毅與悲憫,令人動容。

今年七十歲的巴信誠,是當年山東流亡來台的學生之一,目前擔任台灣山東同鄉總會會長。從落難澎湖到在台灣開枝拓葉,巴信誠是如何走出自己的路?


半世紀前,中國剛經歷了八年的焦土抗日戰爭,戰勝的慶祝煙火還來不及放完,淒厲的號角聲又再次響起;這一次,上演的是兄弟鬩牆、手足相殘的悲劇。

八千子弟雲和月

早已習慣在戰亂中一面緊抱書本一面流亡的山東學生們,眼見國共局勢逆轉,為了逃避共產黨統治,於是在一批忠黨愛國的校長帶領下,追隨國民政府一路南下。這批總數約八千人的流亡學生,分屬於濟南聯中五校、煙台聯中四校等學校,年紀大的不過二十多,小的才剛上初中,晚上睡覺還會在夢裡呼爹叫娘呢。

當年二十歲的巴信誠,也是這八千名山東流亡學生中的一員。萬里迢迢離鄉背井,父母怎麼捨得呢?

「那個年代,父母只希望孩子能脫離戰爭,那裡沒戰爭就往那裡去,最重要的是能夠安安心心唸點書,不要中斷,」年過七十,巴信誠對當年母親的苦心依舊感念。

可惜戰火追著學生的腳步一路跟來,這點卑微的願望始終無法實現。從青島到湖南,從湖南到廣州,最後聽說當時的澎湖防衛司令官是位山東鄉長,願意「照顧」同鄉子弟,於是各校校長商議後,決定一起轉往澎湖,十七歲以上的,半訓半讀,十六歲以下的孩子及女生,就另外設立學校讀書。

到了澎湖,台灣的教育單位聽到消息派人前來,最後裁定大部份的學生仍要當兵,八千名流亡學生,終究難逃被「拉伕」的厄運。更悲慘的是,由於各校校長不願意背棄對子弟們的承諾、接受這種蠻橫安排,和軍方力爭的結果,竟被誣指為「匪諜」。那一年年底,在重重冬霾中,煙台聯中的張姓、鄒姓兩位校長及五位「帶頭學生」,被解送台灣,執行槍決!

「那個年代,誰會跟你講道理!」多年來,午夜低迴,巴信誠常勸自己,過去就過去了,還留著那些怨恨幹什麼。當時他也因為被視為活躍分子而遭到羈押,在澎湖關了幾個月、飽受苦刑後又被帶到台灣,繼續羈押在位於西門町的保安司令部「新生營」裡,還在那裡認識了同為白色恐怖受難者、後來的中央銀行總裁許遠東,許遠東也成了第一個教他講台灣話的人。

「新生營」出來,巴信誠被編入陸軍,默默地當了八年的大頭兵,終於在民國四十六年,以「身體不佳、不堪服役」為理由,帶著四百七十元的退伍俸,離開了軍隊。

從小工到博士

軍旅生涯苦,沒想到出社會更苦。當時台灣百業蕭條,巴信誠又無田無產,要怎樣謀生呢?直到今天他還記得自己當時出了台北火車站,望著人來人往,剎時覺得人海茫茫、無處可以容身的淒涼心境。

巴信誠在台北的第一個工作,是在同鄉朋友的山東饅頭舖裡打零工。打了一陣子,覺得不是辦法,正好公路局要招考司機,在軍中開著巴士到處奔馳的巴信誠,信心滿滿地去應考。沒想到公路局用來考試的是一台剛從德國進口的新型平頭巴士,還沒摸清車況的巴信誠,不慎在S形倒車時壓到了樁子。

「當樁子壓到、考官『嗶』的一聲響時,我的心整個涼了,」考官要他三個月以後再來,然而這漫漫長月要怎樣捱過呢?

人生的際遇果真奇妙,如果那天樁子沒倒,今天巴信誠大概是個認命的國光號司機;然而就在他焦灼地等待下一次巴士考試時,機會來了。有位同鄉朋友在學校教書,校中正好有老師要去服役,需要一位代課老師,擁有高中學歷的巴信誠,就這樣提著一箱行李,轉了好幾趟巴士,顛顛簸簸地到新店小格頭山區裡的雲海小學去教書了。

小小的山區小學沒水沒電的,不過同是流亡來台的校長對他不錯,鼓勵他拿到正式的教員資格。一心還想唸書的巴信誠,在幽靜的山區小學教書、讀書,不久又考上中興大學法律系,終於在三十五歲那年戴上方帽,取得大學士的資格。

機運與努力

大學畢業後,巴信誠轉到當時台北縣首屈一指的大校新莊中學去教書,接著結婚、生子,人生漸漸步入坦途。當時輔仁大學已選在新莊復校,他隨後被推薦給有同鄉之誼的樞機主教于斌校長作秘書,負責和教育部的聯繫跑腿工作,不但薪水從原先的每月一千四百元往上調高一倍,而且配有一部美國進口小車,開在街頭十分拉風。

由於在大學工作,總要有個博士學位才相稱,於是在于校長的推薦補助下,巴信誠攜家帶眷前往日本,半工半讀八年後,拿到商學博士學位。

「在那個年代,四十來歲才有機會去國外唸書是很普遍的事,而且那時也不覺得拿個博士有多難,」巴信誠表示。

從小工到博士,巴信誠靠的絕不是幸運。早在新莊中學任教時,往往七、八十位教員都擠在一間大辦公室裡休息看報、閒聊家常,唯獨巴信誠端著茶水報紙回到自己班上,一面休息,一面督促學生唸書、跟學生打成一片。這種認真個性,使得他的班級在鬧烘烘的校園裡看起來特別規矩有禮,讓校長印象深刻,樂於向別人推薦他。而這份認真慎重,即使在社會上打滾多年,至今仍絲毫不打折扣。

拿到博士學位,巴信誠仍回輔大任教;由於他在日本多年,看到日本餐飲界的進步與多樣,覺得這正是台灣缺少的,於是又投資開餐館,賺了不少錢;而和太太合辦的正心幼稚園,是台北市最老牌的幼稚園之一,獲得的獎項多不勝數,是夫妻兩最大的驕傲。

「麥帥橋頭南京公寓一帶的孩子,隨便問問,都是正心帶大的,」目前巴信誠和太太仍住在幼稚園原址,和街坊阿嬤碰面時,阿嬤們總會跟他們報告乖孫的近況,誰又在美國讀博士、誰又結婚了等等。想起以往園中上百個孩子雀躍撒嬌的身影,兩人仍不禁微笑。

終圓思親夢

一輩子從事教育工作,又因為自己唸書的路崎嶇多舛,巴信誠和太太譚攸靈因而特別注重孩子的教育,希望他們贏在起跑點上。兩個女兒高中畢業後就送到美國,接著兩個兒子也在小學畢業後遠赴加拿大,由阿姨們幫忙照顧。

把孩子送去當小留學生,是想移民嗎?對飽經離亂、只想遠離共黨威脅的台灣外省人來說,移民的念頭似乎特別強烈。然而巴信誠倒不這樣想。

「孩子要留在國外還是回來台灣,我都不勉強。但我自己,是預備在台灣終老的,」提起這個話題,巴信誠激動起來。

「誰愛台灣?我最愛台灣!」巴信誠表示。當阿兵哥時,總有慈祥的小店歐巴桑會關懷一聲:「做兵誒緊艱苦昧?(當兵很辛苦吧?)」從日本回國,一面教書一面做生意時,是台灣朋友鼎力幫著他。半世紀生活在這裡,娶妻生子、事業有成,山東鄉親們固然互相照顧,然而淳樸無私的台灣更像位慈母,撫慰著遊子的心,他對台灣的感情沒有一絲虛假。

對於遠在山東煙台老家的母親,巴信誠同樣刻骨地思念著。他的長子巴中在替奶奶祝賀百歲壽誕的文章裡,提到小時候兄弟姊妹四人常看到父親在飯桌上,面對著滿桌菜餚思親流淚、難以下箸的情景。

思親,是一整代來台外省人心中的最痛,然而巴信誠比別人多了份堅持。從民國六十年代中期、政治氣氛還很緊縮時,巴信誠就悄悄地透過日本、香港的友人,和家鄉的老母親取得了聯絡。一心想接母親來台安居的巴信誠費盡心力,終於在民國七十一年九月,從香港接回了高齡八十九的母親。

「我四歲時父親過世,是母親一手帶大的,」直至今天,來訪的客人進了客廳,第一眼看到的,就是一張老太太百歲壽誕時請畫家手繪的巨幅油畫。「以前我母親就喜歡坐在這張大椅子上,瞇著眼睛看電視,」巴信誠說,老太太在台灣生活了十一年,他和太太悉心奉侍,還為母親舉辦了盛大的百歲壽宴,心中那種滿足與心安,覺得此生再無遺憾。老太太在台灣度過了一百零一歲生日後,突然表示想回煙台老家去看看,全家人又陪著回去,老太太在煙台住了半年,卻因一場小感冒去世。

莫讓青史盡成灰

回顧大半生,巴信誠相當知足,如今年過七十,他的行程表還是排得滿滿的。目前他擔任台灣山東同鄉會的會長,替在台的九十多萬名山東同鄉服務。每一年的中秋祭孔、祭黃陵大典,巴信誠都會帶團去大陸參加;又由於自己曾經吃過戰亂時代「沒有道理可講」的苦頭,巴信誠這些年來擔任中華倫理教育學會的理事長,大力推展孔老夫子的儒家思想。

當年的流亡學生,如今有的在學術機構裡當了教授、院長,有的留在軍中官拜上將,有的做生意發了財,也有更多人雖平凡但平安地過了一生。當年為維護子弟竟以身殉的張校長,自己的六位子女有四位拿到了博士;鄒校長的兒女也在台灣成長發展,如今已從教育崗位上退休。雖然歷史至今還欠這些流亡學生們一個公道,然而他們用堅毅、勤奮與寬厚,寫下了屬於自己的動人史歌。

p.91

巴信誠和太太譚攸靈是山東同鄉,相互扶持半世紀而感情彌篤。圖為夫妻倆攝於滿室佛像的家中。(邱瑞金攝)

p.92

當年的髫齡小兒(左一),如今已經年過七十。所幸萬里流亡,終能闖出屬於自己的一片天。

.93

民國七十一年,巴信誠費盡千辛萬苦將高齡近九十的老母親接來台灣奉養,這是他此生最引為快慰的一件事。圖為巴老太太生前和巴信誠所創辦的正心幼稚園孩子合影。

p.95

心繫中華傳統倫理的巴信誠,近幾年每年都要率團赴大陸祭祖、祭黃陵。

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近期文章

EN

Mainlanders at Home in Taiwan- Pa Hsin-cheng's Story

Laura Li /photos courtesy of courtesy of Pa Hsin-cheng /tr. by Mark Caltonhill

The Civil War between the Nationalists and Communists is a chapter of China's recent history that makes many people weep bitter tears. When mainland China fell into enemy hands, two million soldiers and civilians followed the Nationalist government to the small and unfamiliar island of Taiwan. Here they came face to face with the island's inhabitants, who were still frightened and reeling from Japanese colonization and the Chinese government's bloody suppression in the February 28 Incident in 1947. Amidst these great historic events, the genuinely moving stories of everyday people, whether or not of Taiwanese origin, speak volumes about the fortitude and sympathy of the people in Taiwan.

Pa Hsin-cheng, the 70-year-old president of the Association of Shandong Natives in Taiwan, was just one of many students from Shandong who ended up in Taiwan as a result of their flight from the war. After a harried escape to the Penghu Islands, he eventually made a life for himself in Taiwan. What ups and downs did he encounter along the way?


Half a century ago, as China had just finished eight years of scorched earth policies in resisting Japanese imperialism, the victory celebrations were barely underway when the bugles sounded again. This time they heralded a family squabble: the tragedy of brother fighting brother. The Shandong students were already accustomed to gripping tight to their textbooks as they fled the chaos of war. Seeing the Nationalist-Communist situation taking a turn for the worse, to evade communist rule they followed the Nationalist government all the way south, under the leadership of loyal and patriotic school principals.

8,000 students march

This group of about 8,000 included students from the five Joint High Schools of Jinan and four Joint High Schools of Yantai. The oldest were not much over 20, and the youngest, who had just started junior high, still cried out for their father or mother in their dreams at night.

Then 20 years old, Pa Hsin-cheng was one of these 8,000. Why were his parents willing to let him wander so far from his family and home?

"At that time, parents just hoped that their children could escape the fighting. We went wherever there was no fighting. The most important thing was that we could continue our studies in peace." Now 70, Pa Hsin-cheng still recalls with affection his mother's great concern for his welfare.

Unfortunately, war pursued the students the whole way and this modest desire was never realized. From Qingdao they went to Hunan and from Hunan to Guangzhou. Finally, hearing that the commanding officer of the forces defending the Penghu (Pescadores) Islands hailed from Shandong and was willing to look after the children of fellow Shandong natives, the school principals discussed the matter among themselves and decided to go to the Penghus. Male students aged 17 and over were to divide their time between study and military training; boys under 17 and female students were to take classes in a separate school.

After hearing of their arrival in the Penghus, the Taiwan education authorities sent representatives who decided that a majority of students should serve in the armed forces. At the end of their long flight, the 8,000 students had ultimately failed to avoid being drafted into the war. Further tragedy befell a number of school principals who refused to abandon their commitment to the children and accept this unreasonable arrangement. As a result of their impassioned disputes with the military they were accused of being Communist spies. In the thick winter haze towards the end of that year, Principals Chang and Tsou of the Yantai Joint High Schools, and five student leaders, were sent under guard to Taiwan and executed by firing squad.

"Who talked reason at that time!" Late at night many years later, Pa Hsin-cheng frequently tells himself that the past is past, and there is no point in harboring resentment. As he was considered an activist he was also incarcerated on the Penghus for several months. After enduring torture he was brought to Taiwan, where his imprisonment continued in the Hsinsheng (New Life) Barracks at a Public Security Command Post near Hsimenting, Taipei. While there, he got to know Sheu Yuan-dong, a fellow victim of the White Terror who later became governor of the Central Bank of China. Hsu was also the first person to teach him Taiwanese.

From unskilled laborer to PhD

After leaving the Hsinsheng Barracks, Pa Hsin-cheng was recruited into the army where he spent eight uneventful years as a soldier. Due to "ill health and inability to endure active service," he left the armed forces in 1957 with discharge pay of NT$470.

While army life had been hard, Pa never imagined that reentry into civil society would be harder still. Back then, the Taiwanese economy was in the doldrums, and with nothing to his name, he faced gloomy prospects. To the present day, he still remembers walking out of Taipei railway station, watching the boundless sea of humanity coming and going, and feeling the desolation of belonging nowhere.

Pa Hsin-cheng first worked in Taipei at the mantou (steamed bread) store of a fellow Shandong man. After a while, however, he felt that this was not the job for him. The Bureau of Transportation happened to be testing and recruiting drivers. As Pa had driven buses in the army, he confidently applied to participate in the examination. It never occurred to him that the bus used in the bureau's test would be a new flat-topped bus just imported from Germany. With no chance to get used to the feel of the new vehicle, Pa Hsin-cheng flattened a post whilst reversing on an S-bend.

"When I heard the examiner blow on the whistle, it felt like the end of the world." The examiner wanted him to return three months later, but that still left the problem of how to live during the long intervening period.

The fluctuations of human fate are certainly intriguing. If he had not knocked down the post that day, Pa would probably have become a long-distance bus driver. However, while he was steeling himself and waiting for the next examination, an opportunity presented itself. A teacher at the school in which another Shandong friend taught was about to start his military service. The school required a substitute teacher, so, with his high school diploma and one piece of luggage, Pa Hsin-cheng jolted his way across the bumpy roads of northern Taiwan to teach at the Yunhai Elementary School in the Hsiaoketou Mountain district of Hsintien.

The tiny mountain elementary school was without water or electricity, but the school principal, who was similarly exiled in Taiwan, was good to him and encouraged him to gain formal teaching qualifications. Pa Hsin-cheng, who wholeheartedly wished to continue his studies, both taught and studied in the peaceful mountain school. Before long, he passed exams to enter the Department of Law at National Chungshing University and finally at 35 years old gained his bachelor's degree.

A mixture of luck and hard work

After graduating from university, Pa Hsin-cheng went to teach at the large Hsinchuang High School, the top school in Taipei County at that time. He married, had children, and life gradually became easier. When Fu Jen Catholic University reopened in Hsinchuang, he was recommended as secretary to the university's president, Cardinal Yu Bin, who also hailed from Shandong Province. In this capacity he liaised with the Ministry of Education. Not only was his monthly income doubled from his previous NT$1400, he also had use of an imported American automobile in which he felt most dandy as he drove around the streets.

As working in a university is more suited to those with doctoral degrees, with the recommendation and support of Cardinal Yu, Pa Hsin-cheng took his family to Japan where, after an eight-year work/study program, he obtained his PhD in Business Studies.

"It was quite common for someone in his forties to undertake overseas study back then. Furthermore, gaining a PhD wasn't considered very difficult," says Pa Hsin-cheng.

Pa Hsin-cheng's transition from unskilled laborer to doctoral student, however, was not merely a matter of good fortune. It was a result of his whole attitude. In his early days of teaching at Hsinchuang High School, 70 or 80 teachers often squeezed into a large staff room to relax, read papers or chat about trivial matters. Only Pa Hsin-cheng, carrying his tea and newspaper, returned to his classroom. There, while taking his break, he would mix with the pupils and urge them to study. This conscientious approach made his classes seem particularly well mannered within the boisterous environment of the school. It also left a deep impression on the principal and made him happy to recommend Pa to others. This conscientiousness and prudence has not diminished in the slightest, even though he has already been active in the community for many years.

Realization of his dream

After being awarded his PhD, Pa Hsin-cheng returned to teach at Fu Jen University. Having lived in Japan for many years and having observed the improvements and diversity in Japanese cuisine and diet, Pa felt that this was definitely an area in which Taiwan fell short. Consequently, he invested money to open a restaurant which went on to earn him quite a lot of money. With his wife he also set up the Chenghsin Kindergarten. One of the oldest kindergartens in Taipei, it has won numerous awards. These are the couple's two proudest achievements.

"Ask anybody in the Nanjing Apartment Complex/MacArthur Bridge district and you'll find they were all raised at the Chenghsin Kindergarten." Pa Hsin-cheng and his wife still live where the kindergarten once stood. Elderly women in the neighborhood stop them on the street to report the latest news about their good little boys and girls now grown up-who is studying for a PhD in America, who is married and so forth. Recalling images of the hundreds of former pupils fooling around and acting up, the old couple cannot help smiling.

Perhaps because of having worked his whole life in the field of education, or perhaps because of the twists and turns in his own academic career, Pa Hsin-cheng and his wife Tan You-ling attach especial importance to their children's education, hoping to give them the best start in life. They sent their two daughters to America after graduating high school and, as soon as their two sons had finished elementary school, they were sent to far-off Canada where they were looked after by an aunt.

Had he sent his children overseas as young students with the intention of emigration? The idea of emigration is particularly attractive to some mainlanders wishing to get as far as possible from the communist threat. Pa Hsin-cheng, however, did not subscribe to this way of thinking.

"I did not pressure my children either to stay abroad or return to Taiwan. For myself, I am planning to spend my old age in Taiwan." As he says this, Pa grows emotional.

"Who loves Taiwan? I love Taiwan the most!" declares Pa Hsin-cheng. When he was a soldier, he was touched by the concern of local shopkeepers, who frequently asked in Taiwanese, 'Is it tough being a soldier?' After returning from Japan, it was Taiwanese friends who helped him as he taught and set up in business. Of course, during the half century of life spent here, in which he married, raised children, and had a successful career, people from Shandong looked after each other, but the genuine selflessness of the people in Taiwan was like a loving mother consoling the hearts of these exiled sons. Pa's feelings about Taiwan are without a shred of pretense.

Pa has equally deep feelings for his mother in their distant home in Yantai. In the congratulatory essay that Pa Hsin-cheng's eldest son Pa Chung wrote for his grandmother on her 100th birthday, he mentioned that when the four siblings were small they often saw their father burst into tears at big meals when his thoughts turned to his own parents. At such emotional times he could barely raise his chopsticks to eat.

Memories of their families are what have made mainland Chinese in Taiwan weep most bitterly throughout their time here. Perhaps Pa Hsin-cheng held more tightly to these feelings than other people. In the mid-1970s when the people of Taiwan still lived under a highly repressive government, Pa Hsin-cheng started to make stealthy contacts with his aged mother via friends in Japan and Hong Kong. Pa's efforts to bring his mother to Taiwan to live in peace finally came to fruition in September 1982 when he brought her to Taiwan via Hong Kong at the age of 89.

"My father passed on when I was four years old, and my mother raised me single-handedly." The first thing visitors see on entering the living room today is a large oil painting of the old lady on her 100th birthday. "My mother liked to sit on that big chair, screwing up her eyes to watch the television," says Pa Hsin-cheng. During the 11 years his mother lived in Taiwan, Pa and his wife waited on her every need. They also organized a magnificent 100th birthday feast for the old lady. Filled with satisfaction and peace of mind, he really felt life would be without further regret. After celebrating her 101st birthday in Taiwan, his mother suddenly expressed interest in returning to take a look at her old home in Yantai. The whole family accompanied her. She stayed in Yantai for half a year, but then died after catching a cold.

Not allowing history to gather dust

Looking back over more than half a lifetime, Pa Hsin-cheng is content with his lot. Although he celebrated his 70th birthday this year, he still has a packed schedule. He is now president of the Association of Shandong Natives in Taiwan, which serves the more than 900,000 Shandong people on the island. Each year he leads a group to mainland China to participate in the mid-Autumn memorial service to Confucius and the ceremony for Huangdi, the Yellow Emperor. Because of the injustices he himself suffered during the chaos of war, Pa Hsin-cheng has served for many years as director of the Chinese Association for Moral Education, through which he works to promote Confucian thought.

Among those 8,000 students, some ended up as professors or the heads of academic institutions, some remained in the military and became generals, and others made their fortunes in business. Many more, although ordinary, nevertheless led safe and peaceful lives. Of the six sons and daughters of Principal Chang, who sacrificed himself trying to protect the youngsters, four obtained doctoral degrees. Principal Tsou's children also grew up in Taiwan and have already retired from careers in education. Although history still owes these people their slice of justice, through fortitude, diligence and generosity they have written their own moving chapter of history.

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Pa Hsin-cheng and his wife Tan You-ling both hail from Shandong. Still in love after half a century, the couple are photographed in their home surrounded by Buddhist statues. (photo by Diago Chiu)

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The young child of yesteryear (first on left) is today an old man of 70. Distant exile finally brought a measure of happiness.

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In 1982, Pa Hsin-cheng realized his life's dream when he overcame innumerable obstacles to bring his 89-year-old mother to Taiwan. Here, she poses for a photograph with the children of Chenghsin Kindergarten, which was founded by her son.

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Dedicated to traditional Chinese morality, Pa Hsin-cheng every year leads a group to mainland China to honor their ancestors and venerate the Yellow Emperor, Huangdi.

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