On the outskirts of the Canadian city of London, Ontario lives an old gentleman by the name of Wu Ye-ming, who was born at the very end of the Qing dynasty. He is a tall man, and although now in his nineties he is still light on his feet and has no need of a walking stick.

This well-spoken old man is someone out of the ordinary, and in his home on the wall of the living room hangs a calligraphy scroll which reads: "Cultivate universal goodness, modeling yourself on accomplished people throughout the ages." The scroll is dated August, 1923 and bears the signature of Dr. Sun Yat-sen. Possession of a scroll signed by the Father of the Republic marks Mr. Wu as someone special.

So who is this person? What great deeds did he perform? There have always been highly talented individuals hidden away among the Chinese living in Canada. My curiosity was aroused. I wanted to try and uncover as much as I could of the story of his life.

It turns out that in former days Mr. Wu was amongst the twelfth group of students to graduate from the Guangzhou Whampoa Military Academy. As he recalls it, the Academy was set up in 1924. Dr. Sun Yat-sen had put forward the idea of its establishment in May that year. Chiang Kai-shek raised the matter with the National Assembly and then, after approval was given, served as a commissioner on the organizing committee. The Academy was officially established in Whampoa in June the same year, whence it took its name. It was also called the Whampoa Army Officers Academy.

Naturally, after graduating from the Academy Mr. Wu became a professional soldier. He still has a poem he wrote in those years describing his battlefield experiences, entitled "On First Seeing Troops in Battle Array," patterned after a famous old poem:

Studying the classics from childhood / Fighting on decisive battlefields as an adult / Firing a light machine gun / The guns of the devils make a thack-thack sound / Too exhausted to move / Helped off the field by old veterans / For a young man untested / It was an experience never to be forgotten.

The guns of the Japanese (referred to in the poem as devils) were heavy repeating weapons which gave out a shrill resonating sound, powerful and frightening, compared to the lower and deeper putter-putter of the Czech machine guns of the ROC troops.

After several years of fighting, Wu Ye-ming had become a seasoned veteran, and at the end of World War Two he was given the rank of major. Although a professional soldier, he had long since grown weary of the bloodstained battleground. The year after the war ended he applied for his discharge and returned to Guangzhou so he could look after his aged mother.

In the autumn of 1949 the Communists swept across the mainland, and in its turn the city of Guangzhou came under their banner. Mr. Wu evaded capture, temporarily staying at Rennie's Mill, a village on Hong Kong's Kowloon Peninsula. From there, through the intercession of a compatriot and only after letters had flown back and forth for many months, he finally came to settle in Taiwan. During his brief stay in Rennie's Mill, Mr. Wu recorded in seven-character verse his experience of going into exile:

Beacon fires tremble as a lone horsemen rides / In a remote region by the sea, confronting the vast universe / Defeated and broken, how can one bear to speak of courage / Eye sockets filled with tears of blood-strewn blossoms. . . .

After coming to Taiwan, Mr. Wu was assigned by the government to work with the police. His life was busy and richly satisfying. He spent his holidays abroad with his wife and daughter. During this time in Taiwan, four more sons were born, all of whom are now middle-aged and working as engineers in America and Canada.

Mr. Wu officially retired in 1975 and decided to settle in the tranquil, sparsely populated expanses of Canada where he lives in seclusion with his eldest daughter and her family.

Looking back over his life, he spent part of it homeless and adrift; he was born into turbulent times and there was simply nothing he could do about many things. But when all is said and done, he has had the good fortune to be able to sum up his lifetime as one without bitterness and without regrets. He has been true to his nation and himself. His greatest hope now is that in the time remaining to him, he will be able to see all hostilities between Taiwan and mainland China completely subside, and all Chinese sons and daughters living in harmony, thus achieving Dr. Sun Yat-sen's ideal of universal brotherhood.

Writer's note: Mr. Wu has said that as he is very advanced in years and has become very accustomed to his peaceful life, he does not want to recall past events. Sensational events of the past are not suitable for a man in his nineties to think back on. Nevertheless, he advised me I could write a low-key account of him. For my part, seeing the calligraphy of our late Father of the Republic in a foreign land was very exciting, as was hearing the name of the great Whampoa Military Academy. So whatever Mr. Wu told me of the past I have spun together, in my own inadequate way, to bring his words to our younger readers.

p.093

Mr. Wu Ye-ming now lives a quiet life in Canada. Though over 90, he is still in excellent heath.