The Jade Chalice: Blood and Wine for Christmas

coincidental.

How are the valiant fallen and the weapons of War perished...

2 Kings, 1,27

China: The Shensi: December 25, 1942

The Great Northern Winds rolled in gathering speed across the Wei-Ho Plains and rushed toward the sacred Hwa-Shan’s imposing gray-walled mountainside. The wind flung itself against the ancient ridge only to be hurled back as an icy fury upon all the distant corners of the Valley of the Hwang Ho. A large mass of air, split by the impact against the Shan’s peaks, swooped through the Shensi Province and stormed in and out of the mud-hut clusters and hillside rice and millet sheds dotting a sparsely populated land which, long ago, was famed as the Bread-Basket of China. The surge hastened to the northernmost tip of the Province and mingled with a blast sweeping South to form another assault on the valley. The larger fury crashed through the swinging doors of a rice shed which perched perilously on the open plains of Sanyuan just seven miles off the Tung-Kwan Road, leading East to Peking, and serving the inhabitants as the only escape route out of a plundered and barren region in Central China. The wind toyed with the doors of the shed before slamming them shut. Inside the rectangular hulk of rotted pine, standing on the hard earth, the wind funneled to the peak of the floorless shed, hit the pinnacle and swirled back down. Then, as if witness to horror, screamed over the heads of dead bodies and swished out the other end of the shed without turning back to see the doors slam shut in its wake. Only nature saw what no eye would see until the spring thaw. Sprawled over a wooden crate in the center of the shed was a priest. The cavity in the center of his chest made the blood, which oozed from his heart, freeze and crystallize into the spilled wine of a Jade Chalice that he held in a stiffened hand. Nearby, on the cold earth, the whimpering, sporadic sounds, of an infant, locked in his mother’s arms, called for help that no one heard. The calling waned, then ended as the infant succumbed to the lullaby of the howling December wind. The chaos of fifteen shattered bodies surrounding the priest in the center of the shed, made rats cautious as they scurried in search of splattered flesh. In the opaque dawn, a rodent licked the bloodied goateed face of an elderly oriental and, in two jumps, crossed the arm of a young Chinese soldier whose hand lay in bridged affection over the heart of his bearded friend.

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Southport, Connecticut: December, 1938

Two days until Christmas, Neal! A fashionably dressed, neatly coiffed, woman called out groping for her latchkey with an armful of brightly wrapped packages. A trim, young, athletically shaped woman followed equally laden with Christmas gifts. Her effort to kick the door shut caused her to spill part of her burden on the floor.

Don’t help! She admonished Neal who was sitting deeply in his father’s leather chair enjoying the struggling action. Your mother and I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself. She picked up the packages. The open door sent a blast of cold December air into Neal’s face.

The least you could do, Kathy, is shut the door. He said in an inattentive and admonishing tone, We’re not heating all of Southport, you know! Kathy gave him a look and stuck out her tongue. She bent for the packages and with her perfectly shaped leg, kicked the door closed with a thud.

Thank you. Neal said sweetly, getting to her even more. Neal saw her face flush so he continued, Wadja get me! He watched his two favorite women deposit the day’s shopping on the dining room table. Kathy picked up one of the larger wrapped boxes.

You see this one? She came closer to Neal. He slunk lower in the slippery leather chair fearing she would hit him with the package. This one is yours. You know what’s in it? Neal shook his head, holding back a smile. It’s a big box of coal! She was standing over him and dropped the box on his low slung legs. Neal held it for a second.

Oh, great! I thought it was a horse.

Yeah, sure. A horse! She grabbed at the package defeated and turned. I should have put what the horse drops in there! Neal reached for her arm before she could walk away and pulled her on to the big chair. The package tumbled away. He put his arms around her waist and held her as they both slid off the chair on to the carpeted floor. They laughed. Kathy punched Neal in the stomach and got up. Neal howled for his mother. Never mind. That’s for being such a rat! She turned taking her coat off and draped it over the dining room chair. Her brightly colored kerchief hung around her neck with her long blonde ponytail touching the small of her back. She started for the kitchen to help.

The older woman came to the edge of the living room. She peeked and retreated to the kitchen waving Kathy back to Neal.

Can I help you with dinner, Mrs. Langland? She shook her head and waved both hands back toward Neal. There seemed to be a conspiracy between the mother and this beautiful girl.

Kathy placed the leather cushion in the armchair and sat slouching on it in the same way Neal did. She watched the ripples in his muscular back and arms as he stood on a small, unstable, ladder trimming the tree. Neal felt Kathy’s eyes on him. He turned his head slightly. Her bright hair was out of the ponytail and hung in sections over her perfectly proportioned breasts protruding emphatically underneath a white cable stitched sweater. The hair framed her pale green eyes and high cheekbones above full lips that were pouting as she watched. The vision stunned Neal so that he had to look away.

Neal continued to hang strands of tinsel. Kathy sat up and leaned forward sensing a familiar emotion. Neal held his arm straight out holding several strands of tinsel.

Right here, Kath? He said without looking back. She did not answer. Holding his arm tight he turned his head slightly. She was smiling. Neal bounced his hand up and down gesturing with his eyes for permission to drop the tinsel. Kathy shook her head. Her eyes danced. Neal dropped the wad of tinsel on a green bow. It jarred loose a large ornament that crashed in multiples on the floor. Neal, in an attempt to catch the ornament slipped off the ladder and fell into the tree.

Kathy screamed joyously as she pushed up to help Neal stabilize the tree that he held upright while on his back. They both laughed as the tree was repositioned. Their hands touched. The room became silent. They stared into the center of the tree, holding each other’s hand. Kathy looked at Neal as if holding rein on a sudden desire to be embraced by him and kissed hard. The room seemed oppressively warm to Neal. He knew Kathy was searching for a bridge to bring them back together.

Neal turned toward Kathy still holding her hand. He knew that if he kissed her, and he wanted to at that moment, his plans to become a Maryknoll missionary priest would come to a crashing end like the kind that just ended the life of the shattered Christmas ornament. Uneasily, he let go of her hand and turned back to the tree.

Why, Neal? What happened to us? What is this crazy thing you are doing to us? Kathy’s green eyes began to spill.

Kathy, Neal said trying to respond, we’ve been all through that. He turned away not wanting to look into her eyes. At that moment, he could not recall how he explained his reasons for giving her up and telling her he wanted to be a priest. The silence between them was tearing at Kathy. There was no reason for her to stay. She ran from the room that held a stranger. Grabbing her coat, she ran out the front door leaving it open for the onrushing winter wind that blew her hair behind her into flying yellow flags. Mrs. Langland went to the door. She saw Kathy’s car speeding away.

What in heaven’s name did you say to her, Neal?

Nothing, Mother! Just drop it, will you. He slammed his fist into another ornament. It flew at impact and smashed into the window in pieces. His mother stood there a moment looking aghast at her son. She walked to the door and closed out the December cold. She went back into the kitchen to finish her dinner chores in silence.

Neal sat in his father’s chair listening to dinnerware sounds. He stared out the living room bay windows blocked by a half-decorated Christmas tree. His eyes searched the street for signs of a golden-haired woman returning. He looked around the room. He saw Kathy’s crumpled kerchief underneath the tree. He picked it up. Bits of broken ornaments fell out of its folds.

Dinner’s ready, Neal, she said with little joy left in her summons. The silence seemed broken like the tree ornament but he welcomed the call. Anything, he thought, would be better than the feeling of emptiness and deep longing for Kathy.

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China: The Shensi: Tung-Kwan Road: December, 1942

Neal kept thinking of home to take his mind off the December air. He lay motionless. Above him, marching in disarray along the Tung-Kwan Road, were thirty of his nuns, priests and brothers plodding ahead at the brutal urging of the Chinese Red Guard. He watched them and followed them after he escaped. He felt guilty at being the only one who got away. He wondered at the futility of his escape in a land so vast and so barren. Perhaps, he thought, he might get word to his Bishop or the American Embassy. But he was alone, interminable miles from nowhere. He had no clue as to what he should do next so he stayed within sight of his religious counterparts. He was especially concerned for Kathy.

Neal tried to determine where Kathy would be in the group now that he escaped. Only briefly was she by his side, hysterically asking his forgiveness. He lifted his soul in prayer that his escape was the right thing to do. Perhaps, if he stayed, they might have overpowered the Guard. He thought, also, that if he stayed in the group he might have given Kathy strength and comfort or, if necessary, they could meet death together. He was sure that the Red Guard intended to kill them all.

Neal tried to guess where she was but it was impossible. The thirty remaining men and women in the group were from three missions in Central China. Others had died along the way. The march started with fifty men and women. Some were shot and some became too weak to continue. Those were left on the barren roadway to die in the merciless cold.

Neal was hungry and exhausted and cold kneeling on the hard earth behind the cover of his rock. The Rock! He thought of the seminary and Father Rock. He stayed on the fringes of the march and followed in the shadows of the oncoming night. He was afraid, now, in the twilight, that the sloping bank and rock would not hide him from this new enemy. In the dimming light, he saw the pain in the faces of his brothers and sisters and the fear in their eyes.

They marched with a retreating contingent of The Peoples Army taking them all to a rendezvous with Mao-Tse-tung at Yenan in the Northern Valley of the Shensi. They were three hundred miles from that destination. Once there, Mao promised his Red Guard they would fight again. Neal feared that if any of his bretheren lasted that long, the Maryknoll contingent of missioners would be massacred rather than set free. He also thought, as he discovered during the march, that the Guard would continue to kill their victims one at a time rather than continuing to drag them along the difficult route and slowing their progress in reaching their planned destination.

Neal was convinced now from information gathered in hushed talks with Chinese converts at his Paochihsien mission compound, that Mao’s Guard was attempting to regroup for another try at gaining power in China. Mao’s peasant cells were everywhere and growing. Word had come into his Mission that The Peoples Army was scattered and beaten in the South by the forces of the Kuomintang and Chinese Warlords under General Chiang Kai Shek. But the peasants, who worked in the mission or who sold goods to the mission fathers, and those who came for religious instruction in exchange for a hot meal, warned Neal that the defeat was a trick devised by Mao himself. Mao’s strategy, they told him, was to ignore these regional defeats, especially in south central China. Mao wanted his Army turned North to the safety of the Shensi and he staged it as a retreat.

In the Shensi, the Kuomintang, called the KMT, had lost its rigid control within the provinces they had commanded. They also lost most of their wealth because the land had become unworkable and barren and many of the peasants were deserting the land and joining forces with Mao. The northern and colder provinces in China were to be the starting points for a new offensive to implement Mao’s Peoples Plan to rule China. But no one thought this plan would be possible, including the Maryknoll fathers thriving within their insulated missions.

The forces of the private armies of the KMT, in each of the Provinces of China, wrongly assessed that Mao had been totally defeated, and his army scattered. Mao encouraged that thought and the unified Province forces disbanded early to return to their home provinces. They were convinced that the Communist threat was over once they saw Mao’s moves as a retreat and a defeat.

The Maryknoll missioners in the far-flung provinces of China and the home headquarters in Ossining, New York, welcomed the news of victory with joy. They were more concerned with a Communist victory than the threat of an already launched Japanese invasion on the continent of China. Mao used that premature assessment and hiatus in the fighting to plant his agents within key provinces, including the Shensi, to turn the population toward his Communist objectives and join him.

Mao’s troops were to mingle with the people wearing peasant garb and live among them. They would organize local cellblocks of ten to fifteen people. Each cell was comprised of a leader who was usually a soldier or handpicked by the Communist coalition within the local cell. Russian Communist leaders sent technical personnel to assist Mao in organizing and training the Red Guard Cells. Depending upon the size of the city or town where these troops infiltrated, one or several cellblocks would be organized. Mao promised those who joined him, a new and more united order that would free the people and give them a ruling hand so that they would have a share in the land and its wealth. Most of all they were promised food for themselves and their families.

The cells multiplied quickly. The Red Guard grew. Power was achieved as automatic rifles were distributed by Russia to those who joined the movement. Soon, emboldened by their numbers, the distinctive Red Guard uniform was given them. In locations where the Guard achieved control, they donned green soft caps with a bright red star over its visor. The Guard was given olive green jackets with pants to match. The collar of the jacket also was trimmed in bright red. A red armband adorned the sleeve to quickly identify their comrades in a crowd. The most important piece of equipment was the automatic rifle, which held in its power the deciding factor over the peasants and people of the area where the Red Guard was organized.

Established Missions, like those of the Maryknoll Order, Mao decided were intellectual obstacles to the Communist movement. The Missioners had a counterbalancing influence on the people. They became Mao’s first target and sworn enemy. The Mission influence had to be stopped. Mao decreed that the missioners, especially the Maryknoll missioners, and their teaching were to be purged from Chinese life and thought. He called them hoards of foreign invaders who are standing in the way of bringing about a new China ruled only by Chinese. Mao preached Xenophobia and insisted that all foreigners, especially Missioners, were to be expelled.

The residents of his mission in Paochihsien had warned Neal that Mao’s plan was imminent.

They are here, Baba, Neal! They lurk in the shadows. They wish you harmed. They have guns and uniforms. They will fight for Mao!

The converts told him that Red Guard Councils were already being formed and armed to carry out civil disruptions and become cells that would also serve as fighting troops for the Revolution.

Neal, and many others, especially after the staged retreat of the Communists, did not think that the plan, as told by friends of the mission would work or would have the necessary time frame to be implemented effectively.

If it’s coming, John, they just won’t have the time or the smarts to put it in place. Neal said to Pulley who was struggling with a new set of chopsticks. He had his Roman collar off and placed next to his large plate of rice.

You don’t listen to all that stuff, do you Neal? These people are hysterical. Pulley brought rice up to his mouth and it spilled on to his cassock and a few grains stuck to his starched collar. Shit! He said, I’ll never get this! He threw the chopsticks into the bowl.

They all felt secure in the thought that the Kuomintang would quell any uprising planned by the Communists whom they felt had been totally defeated. Then, while the occupants of the mission compounds ruminated over these possibilities, the Red Guard, uniforms, guns and all burst into the Maryknoll Mission compounds of Langchung, Hanchung and Paochihisien. These missions were within the Red Guard’s immediate outreach as they formed up to march to Yenan in the Shensi Province to fight with Mao. The missions were chosen to underscore the intent behind Mao’s plan. Its soundness, however, was yet to be tested. The swiftness of the attacks stunned the missioners who were ill prepared for what followed. Neal, especially, was remorseful that he did not heed the warnings of local inhabitants about the impending threat.

As Neal watched the marching brigade of clerics and nuns above him from his hiding place, Neal was sure now that Mao’s plan of forcing the missioners on the march, meant that they were symbolically marked for death. Those who survived the march would be killed at Yenan. They would serve as an example to the Chinese and the world that foreigners, especially missioners, are no longer desired in Mao’s New China.

Neal considered the events of the past three days as his eyes strained to find Kathy. For a moment he thought he saw her but his eyes misted causing him to lose the moment. The dusk made the men and women look ghostlike as feet kicked the hems of cassocks and gowns that so significantly identified them as missioners of the Maryknoll Order in China.

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Maryknoll Seminary: Ossining, New York: 1940

So, Reverend Mr. Holden, Father Leland Siegfried Roche, M.M. shifted in his seat and twirled a pencil in his fingers. He looked at its point intently to avoid looking into Halbert Holden’s sharp azure eyes, why were you absent from Vespers? Hal knew that when Father Rock asked a question he usually knew the answer so he didn’t consider using the Jesuitical mental reservation.

I skipped it today, Father.

Oh! Did you give yourself a free day? Or are we, the faculty here, still in charge of this Seminary Mr. Holden?

Rock, as every Seminarian called the head Prefect of Discipline and Canon Law Professor, rolled his eyes so that they met Hal’s for a brief second. Then he continued looking at the tip of his pencil.

Who was with you on your trip to town this bright Sunday afternoon? Now he’s got it, Hal thought, it was going to be a long session with Rock until he can verify that Neal, Ray Thomas, Nino Giracco and John Pulley skipped, too. This had to come from Father Gregory, Hal deduced. The Liturgy Professor who serves also as choir master always checks from the choir loft to see that each head is in the right place in the pew. Everybody knows me by my head, Hal admonished himself. I’m waiting! Rock interrupted Hal’s thought processes. In case you’re wondering, Rock said with a fey smirk, Father Gregory looks for those black curly locks of yours when taking attendance. Knew it, Hal thought, listening. You weren’t in your assigned Chapel seat, Mr. Holden! Rock emphasized his last words as if they were a condemnation. Hal shifted on his feet. You’re mistake, Halbert, even though the others managed to sneak into the pews while Father Gregory was busy with the choir, you should have tried it, too. What’s the matter? Afraid that head would give you away? Now, tell me Reverend Mr. Holden, who were the other seminarians who joined you in town today?

That son-of-a-bitch of a wannabe German. He thinks he’s got us all figured out. He’d probably put his own mother on the grill. Well! I’m still waiting! Hal’s thoughts were cut off again. Mutt and Jeff in grey skirts, Father Roche and Father Gregory. Bet they don’t wear pants underneath. Mister Holden! Rock’s louder voice locked Hal’s blue eyes onto his.

I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Father. That’s it, Hal judged. I’m fucked. The punishment for defying Rock could range from informing the Bishop of his insubordination to making him correct all his Canon Law exam papers.

Seminarians never knew what to expect from the priest with absolute power over candidates for the priesthood and one who fancied himself a stickler for details. At times, the seminarians under his charge thought he was a madman.

Born on the fringe of Alsace Lorraine, Rock willed himself to possess German blood, even though he had none. He acted German with meticulous care and spoke the language fluently even though his family migrated to the United States when he was ten years old. He never lost his desire to be German and he reveled in the victories the German people were achieving in the European war under the helm of another madman, Adolf Hitler. Rock became the butt of jokes about his desire to have German ancestry and, at times, the Seminarians called him The Kaiser. Rock loved the allusion so he put up with the allusion. Hal awaited the Kaiser’s verdict and his penalty.

Two months on dish detail in the refectory. Rock smirked.I’ve already informed Langland, Giracco, Pulley and Thomas that they also have two months in the refectory for trying to be so sneaky. I would have expected better things from you, Holden. You started in high school, didn‘t you? Holden nods his curls. Then, as hothouse seminarian, you should know better than to hook up with Langland.

The bastard, Hal raged in his mind. Acting German again. Like nothing gets by the Gestapo. He knew all along. What did he want me to do, squeal because I was hothouse? Because I started my quest for priesthood in High School?

I was hoping I could find some help with the candidates out there, Rock looked remorsefully at Hal and curled his lips. He quickly glanced away from those eyes. But I see I was wrong about you! But I’ll give you fair warning. Mister Langland is not good company for you. He’s a bad influence on everyone around him. Then just as quickly, Hal was dismissed.

That’s all, Mister Holden. Hal jolted at the abruptness of the dismissal. He thought he should salute but decided against it. He was in enough trouble as it was. He didn’t want the Bishop on his back, too. He closed the door behind him. The shit, he thought, as he leaned against the wall, that fucker wanted me to be his informant. He knew now that Neal was his special target. He decided it would be critical to warn Neal about his fears concerning Father Rock.

Neal and Father Rock were like oil and water right from the start when Neal entered Maryknoll directly into First Theology from Fairfield University. Instead of being a hothouse seminarian, or one who goes through the system from high school, Neal jumped right into Theological studies. Neal had all the necessary preliminary Philosophy and Theology courses, especially Philosophy, which he excelled in, at the Jesuit school to qualify being placed directly into the Theology program. This meant that Neal’s ordination would be accomplished in four years, rather than six, which was the hothouse route that Hal was on.

As First Theology seminarians, Neal and Hal were roommates. No seminarian was assigned a private room. When they are scheduled to be ordained Deacons, in their final year of Theology before ordination to Priesthood, the seminarians are given a private room as a privilege. The bestowal is a mark of achievement and recognition. With it comes membership in a special club. Two in a room was also a luxury because below the Theology level there were four and sometimes six assigned to a room. It was all part of an imposed agony. It was a small piece of the sacrifice which was scheduled in between cumbersome studies that composed the rules of a game they called How to Become a Priest.

Neal was used to having his own room at home so privacy was no big deal to him. But he welcomed the chance to have a room mate whom he could think of as the brother he never had. Hal and Neal spent many peanut butter and cracker nights discussing their lives, aspirations, their class schedule, their opinions about professors and certain seminarians. Hal clued Neal in as to which seminarians were OK to hang with and trust and which ones were to be avoided like the plague. Through that kind of give and take relationship Hal and Neal built a strong friendship. It was a friendship they both knew would sustain them through any obstacle lying in their paths to ordination.

Father Rock wanted to put a wedge between that relationship. And that was his plan when he called Hal in to grill him on their unscheduled trip into town. Rock also thought he could persuade Holden to inform him on personal things he might learn as his roommate. It was the reason why he and Father Gregory arranged the room assignments from the beginning.

Hal thought about the clashes in Canon Law as Father Rock and Neal debated points of Philosophy and differences of thought and concepts of salvation between the Jesuits who followed a Thomistic Philosophy of Saint Thomas Aquinas and other Orders adhering to the Augustinian Philosophy of Saint Augustine of Hippo. Rock was Augustinian because it was rigid and more Germanic in its right and wrong approach to sin and Neal followed the more liberal approach of Thomistic Philosophy taught to him by the Jesuits.

Hal could never figure why Rock allowed Neal to challenge him in class. The first time it occurred, Hal thought Neal would be thrown out of class and put on warning to the Seminary Rector and Bishop. But Rock let Neal carry on, perhaps, Hal thought, so that he might make Neal, the Jesuit educated, look like a fool before his peers. As the term progressed, the opposite became true and Rock was caught in the middle with a tiger by the tail.

It was a known fact that Rock was rejected by the Jesuit Order. The rejection was a hurt that ran deep and a slight that he could not forget. So, as a hothouse Maryknoll seminarian, and later upon ordination, he was given the opportunity to pursue advanced theological studies and specialize in Canon Law. It was Rock’s forte and his ticket to power. He seized it with fervor. The choice of study also kept Father Roche from being sent into the missionary field. The ecclesiastical powers determined that Rock would be better suited to the classroom. Every chance Rock had to belittle the Jesuit Order and its liberalism in his Canon Law class he would do so. He imagined himself the new Saint Paul, issuing his letters of condemnation to the Corinthians.

Students loved to coax him into these sermonettes diverting them from the monotonous drudgery of Canon Law. The soap box sermons would sometimes take up the whole of the ninety minute class time. The seminarians would welcome his tirades as a relief from the drudgery of Canons 2143, Canon 2144, Canon 2145 that stacked up like cars waiting to go through a toll on the Merritt Parkway.

Father Rock got away with the critical judgments of Jesuits because no one dared challenge him. When Neal came into his class he livened the ninety-minute sessions with contradictory and rebuttal opinions he studied at the lap of the Jesuits. Neal boned up on his philosophy and theology notes and texts he had with him from his four years at Fairfield University. They were notes painstakingly compiled as a student who worshiped at the knees of his Jesuit teachers. Neal’s arguments flustered Father Rock. His frequent interruptions on a point of Philosophy made Rock’s eyes boil and sometimes made him stammer as he did in his childhood.

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China: The Shensi: Tung-Kwan Road: December, 1942

The familiar shock of Hal’s hairline gave Neal his bearings. Kathy would be close by. She was assigned to the same mission at Langchung with Kewpie Doll and Sister Consuela. Hal’s bruised face was no longer cherubic. The Irish blush became raw and swollen since Neal joined the march at the Paochihsien Mission. Troops shoved him into the streaming line of religious prisoners. Neal struck back at one soldier and got the butt end of a rifle in his gut from another armed guard. There were thirty Red Guard herding a cadre of fifty men and women missioners who were forcibly emptied out of three separate missions in central China.

Children, who became attached to the missioners of the mission in Paochihsien, ran to the throng. The missioners were being forced at gunpoint into the street. Most of the adults of the town hid behind the safety of their curtained windows and watched in fearful silence.

Fuchin! Fuchin! The children screamed unafraid, trying to wrest the priests and nuns from the brutal grasp of soldiers.

Siah, siah, siah! They cried over and over pulling at the wrists of soldiers trying to get them off their teachers. Suddenly, one guard had enough and struck a clamoring child on the head with his gun. The child went sprawling, his head gashed open. People watching, gasped. The children retreated. The Paochihsien inhabitants looked on stoically as the Mission was emptied and its residents marched northward out of their sight. When the missioners were gone, a trickle of shadowy figures with red armbands entered the mission. They were members of the Red Guard Cellblock and they established themselves as the new proprietors of the Maryknoll Mission.

Neal pushed his way toward the front of the march. He reached out for Kathy’s arm. He had not seen Kathy since the Departure Ceremony at Ossining. She turned and he saw the bruised face and shame in her eyes.

She screamed, I’m sorry, Neal! I’m sorry, Neal! Neal! Neal! Neal! Kathy repeated his name over and over hysterically, not knowing where to turn or what she should do. Her green eyes were frantic and horror stricken. A guard came up behind Kathy and pushed her forward out of Neal’s hold. Hal moved to stride alongside Neal and held him from going after the guard. They have been raping all the women, Neal, since Langchung, young or old, it didn’t matter! Hal said helplessly. The nodding of his head and the glance in Kathy’s direction was all Neal needed to tell him why Kathy broke down.

Why, Hal? There are only thirty of them! We outnumber them. Hal could only shrug his shoulders.

They have guns, Neal. They have already killed several of our people. The older ones died along the way. What good are we against their guns?

Who gives a fucking shit about guns, Hal? They’ll kill us anyway. Where the fuck are Nino and Jack?

Somewhere, up there with Kathy and Kewpie.

Neal knew he must try to escape and somehow take Kathy with him. When the contingent of religious prisoners reached the outskirts of Wukung, near a tributary of the Yellow River, Neal decided to break away during a five-minute rest period.

You won’t make it, Neal. Don‘t go! These people are not rational. They shoot without warning. Hal tried to hold him.

What difference does it make? We’ll die sooner or later! Back at the mission I was told that but I didn‘t believe it.

No, Hal said,The Bishop must have heard about us by now. The U.S. Embassy will... Hal couldn’t finish. A scream cut the blackened night that was moving quickly into dawn. A fringe of light threaded the dark hills.

Neal vanished as all eyes turned toward the sound. Soldiers only laughed and held their rifles ready. Neal moved down a slope on his stomach toward the muffled, grunting sound. He reached the spot where he saw a guard tearing away the garb of a nun. The guard reached inside his pants and pulled his penis out. The horrified nun was gasping for air. Neal could not tell who the nun was. He hoped it would be Kathy. They would both flee, he thought. But, at that moment, Neal could only think of revenge and anger. His powerful tennis arm slipped around the guard’s throat and his hand grasped his chin. The movement caused a snapping sound. Neal felt no remorse as the soldier slunk in death atop the nun.

Neal angrily shoved the body off the nun on to the hard frozen turf. Sister Consuela tried to stop her sobbing. Neal was abruptly stunned that the woman was not Kathy. He immediately shook off his disappointment. But all he could say to Sister Consuela was, Where’s Kathy? The nun could only gesture ignorance with her hands as she continued to sob. Neal held her by the shoulders.Quick! Get back to the group. Please do what you can for Kathy. If you can talk to her, tell her I‘ve escaped and I‘ll be watching for a chance to get her! Tell her it‘s Sasco Beach time! Aggie! You got that? Listen to me. Aggie? Snap out of it! Kathy needs you!

Sister Consuela shook her head through tears. Neal helped Sister Consuela creep to the fringe of the missioners. The rest period was over and soldiers were forcing them to their feet. She joined them sliding into the pack without being noticed. Priests and nuns shielded her deep within the group. None of the guards, intent upon getting the march started again, gave any indication that they missed one of their own. At that moment, Neal disappeared over the hillside dragging the dead guard with him into the breaking dawn.

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The cold hurt Neal’s eyes. It was another day. He survived the bitter weather by wrapping himself in the Red Guard’s jacket. It was easier to trail after the marching line now that twilight made the earth a deeper grey than it had been during the morning and afternoon. Hunger plagued him. He wondered how Kathy and the others felt without food.

When the Red Guard split up in the South and headed for Yenan, they were rationed a small bag of rice to survive on. They stole whatever food was available on the land throughout the trek. They killed the more reluctant peasants when they were refused handouts. Some of the Missioners had the foresight to stuff their pockets with rice, nuts and beans. In the darkness they shared their meager supplies unseen by the Guard. Some of the Guard gave grains of rice to nuns who served them as prostitutes. The nourishment kept them alive but their souls were dying from their own guilt. The Guard needed to satisfy their animal urges. There was nothing else to keep them occupied except for the treacherous march Northward and the burden of taking their prisoners along. The Guard would rather shoot their prisoners and get it over with. But the command was clear. They were to be an example to the world. It was Mao’s decree.

The nuns were terrified of the consequences for refusing carnal access to them. They never realized the extent of their fear until they were ten miles outside of the Paochichsien Mission.

A Red Guard grabbed hold of the arm of a young novice, Sister Mary Laurine, who was playfully called Kewpie Doll, because of her perfect figure and flashing eyes and happy vivacious sparkle. It was difficult to hide her attractiveness under the drab garb of a nun.

You look good enough for me! He said in Chinese. He began to pull her off the road.

Get your greasy animal hands off me, you stupid child!

Kewpie pulled her arm away and stunned the Guard with her ability to speak Chinese. It enamored him all the more despite the insult of being called a child. He was seventeen. He shouldered his rifle by the strap. He pulled her around with both arms. He started to feel her breasts. Kewpie recoiled.

You are not going to make me your whore! Kewpie’s Irish temper flared as she screamed at him in Chinese. The soldiers of the march stopped to watch the confrontation. They were amused. They were also amazed at Kewpie’s ability to speak Chinese. They smiled watching as the contingent halted.

Suddenly, Sister Laurine let loose with a knee directly into the groin of the accosting Red Guard. He doubled over in pain as his comrades laughed. Kewpie stood looking at the guard defiantly.

My Irish father taught me that one, pig! She said in flawless Chinese. In English she admonished her brethren. This slanty-eyed mongrel is not going to touch me! She shouted it challenging her sisters in the march. Fight, Sisters! Fight Brothers! Don’t take this from these ignorant assholes!

The Guard sensed a confrontation. They stood aside and cocked their automatic rifles. They pointed them in a sweeping motion. Pulley heard Kewpie’s high-pitched plea. He plowed forward to get nearer to her. He saw the young soldier she had kicked in the groin getting up. He became fearful for Kewpie and pushed forward faster.

This diminutive woman disgraced the soldier. He was enraged by the disdain he saw on the faces of his comrades. He pulled his knife. He held Kewpie by the throat. She struggled but his grip was a vice and choking. He took his knife and cut off her left breast. The guard held her face with both hands and with his thumbs gouged her eyes out. They fell to the ground. Kewpie’s blood washed the ground. When she collapsed in her blood-soaked garments, the soldier lifted her skirt and sodomized her before she died. The contingent of priests and nuns gaped at the viciousness of the soldier’s vengeance. No one moved. The other soldiers were mesmerized and almost admiring of the action.

Pulley was still moving. Kewpie would have been the kind of woman he would have married and with whom he would have raised a family. He wondered, at that moment, who he was and what he was doing in China. His mind was going blank. Something snapped within his brain. He saw the horror of the death of this beautiful young girl he had been attracted to ever since he saw her in the Seminary kitchen. Now she was gone. Brutally murdered. Why? For what cause? For what reason? Anger clouded his conscience. He wanted the soldier to pay for the murder of a woman he suddenly realized that he loved more than anything else on earth. He leapt upon the soldier and wrenched him off Kewpie. The young soldier continued to sodomize Kewpie even though she had died from her wounds. Before the other soldiers could react to what they saw, Pulley snapped the soldier’s neck, killing him. He took his knife and in one swipe cut his penis off and flung it at the Guard watching. They raised their rifles and his head exploded in a hail of bullets from both sides of the road.

The others fell to the ground as the shooting began. They stayed there until ordered to move and continue on the march. The missioners, with guns pointing at them, filed by the horrible scene of depravity and death in silence and in prayer. The Guard continued to laugh at the grotesque scene and the helplessness of the missioners. The sight of the bloodied penis by the side of the road unnerved them. But, now, because of the near-riot caused by the death of Kewpie and Pulley, the soldiers became more wary of the men who were taught to turn to the other cheek. Following the crime committed on Kewpie and Jack Pulley, the women had second thoughts about volunteering for martyrdom to save their virginity. The men also saw visibly that rising up against their jailors was not a sensible option in the face of guns. They remained docile with their hands clutching their beads rather than making a fist to resist their enemy.

Kathy, herself a victim and witnessing all the horrors of the suffering missionaries, was almost in a catatonic state. She thought of another way to die. She refused any food that anyone offered. She grew weaker by the hour and could barely walk.

Her companions, weary themselves, held Kathy under each arm. Guards, beginning to lose interest in her because of her weakened condition, threatened to shoot her if she did not keep up. Kathy inwardly prayed for that end. She pleaded with her sister and brother missioners to let her fall so that she would be free of the continuing violations on her spent body.

The Baltimore Catechism taught Catholics to believe that the human body is the Temple of the Holy Ghost. After days of carnal abuse, Kathy felt an abandonment by the Holy Ghost. It was an abandonment that she never really believed in anyway as a Prebyterian who looked at holiness in a more practical and human way. It was only when she studied for Catholicism with Father Shannon that the concept of the Holy Ghost became a challenging thought to her.

The abuse, the cold and the hunger clouded her once sharp mind and dulled her strong will. She constantly thought of Neal and how her life would have been if they had married. She had no further strength to fight the Guard as they penetrated her during the night and at rest periods. Her strong body and full breasts were prizes, which the Guard argued over, came to blows over, and drew lots for.

A Guard who won Kathy would sometimes sell her for a few grains of rice. Even though her mind and her body deteriorated rapidly under these conditions, she decided to survive these relentless copulations by imagining Neal on her in the happy seclusion of the Southport Sasco Beach cove.

After continual rapes, her mental state was exacerbated and her fragile self-worth became razor-thin. Following each penetration, Kathy condemned herself for having committed an immoral act because she willfully conjured up Neal’s body during coitus. In her present state, no one could convince her that she was not a sinner or that her soul was not doomed to Hell because she was committing mortal sin. She felt if she were still a Presbyterian her soul would not be so plagued as she learned about sin and conscience in her striving to become an exemplary Catholic and a complete nun.

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Fairfield University: Fairfield, Connecticut: 1937

Marry me now, Kath. I know we can make it. Neal and Kathy were sitting close and warm in Neal’s Chevy convertible. The Arvin heater made it cozy inside despite the brief snowfall. The Winter Carnival for the Junior Class at Fairfield University was going strong at 11:30 p.m. The priest chaperons had retired for the night with a be good admonition. That left the older married couples with the chore of keeping the dance respectable and in good order. The dance was revving up for an all-nighter. At college dances, the remaining chaperons slipped out around midnight to keep their baby-sitting costs reasonable. After that, the booze began to flow and the boys and girls began testing their libidinous courage with one another. The testing and the touching under lowered lights and a smooth sounding swing band made the night perfect. The band played after contract time was up when the Class President took up a collection for an extra hundred to keep it going.

Some of the girls, thrilled to be asked to a College Junior Class dance, were cunning enough to steer their male partners into lifetime decisions. This was the critical time for young College men who would soon embark upon professional careers. After all, they would be seniors next year vying for law school, med school, or executive careers . This was the perfect time to nail down a steady and, perhaps, a loving mate for life. The young college-going girls knew the ritual well. That’s why most young women considered it special to be invited to attend the Junior Class dance by very eligible special young men.

Not only did marriages come from these dance auctions, but also, sometimes, unexpected fatherhood and motherhood was the result. For those poor souls who made the mistake of not carrying condoms, because they were told it was a mortal sin ever since Grammar School, the formalities of the hunt turned into a regret that lasted a lifetime of broken dreams.

So, whadda you say, Kath! Neal buried his face into her hair underneath her ear. She chilled at his lips but looked out at the Klieg lights on Xavier Hall and the milling males smoking at the doorway. Kath? Neal moved out of her ear. She looked at him. He really wanted an answer. He was serious.

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Kathy experienced the first pangs of young love for Neal when she was in the sixth grade at Sasco Elementary School in Southport. Kathy was a grade behind Neal although two years his junior. She watched him play in the schoolyard deliberately displaying his athletic abilities hoping to get her attention. He missed a hard grounder toward him just to run closer to her. She was jumping rope with her best friend Anne Shaw and the other sixth grade girls. The ball stopped at her foot. She picked it up and saw Neal standing in front of her, sinking into her eyes.

He was mesmerized when she held the