The Most Intense Time of the Cultural Revolution
In 1970 there was launched the “one beat and three oppose” movement. This was the most frenzied period in the great Cultural Revolution. The county government was allowed to execute people by shooting and did not have to report to the higher authorities for approval.
In March of 1970, I had been locked in a type of basement. It actually was an air defense air-raid shelter that had been dug at the time. This basement was under the air defense command of our work unit. It was very simple and crude. A person had to go through a little iron door, take a step down through another little door you will enter the basement. It was about 40 meters square and dark. There was a lamp hung on the ceiling, which was 3 meters from the ground, but it was always turned off. It was also very damp. When you adapt your eyes to the dark you could see small lines of light coming from a crack in the upper brick wall. It felt like there was a shortage of oxygen. I felt like I was going to suffocate. I climbed on a bed type structure and drew in deep breaths to calm myself. I was living without light and without hearing any sound. After about two weeks I felt that I would go insane. Breathing seemed to be harder and harder, but it was probably from lack of exercise.
One night I heard a sound from above. It was the opening of the iron door. I heard footsteps of many people. The door had been held shut with iron chains, which I heard being removed. The basement door opened. Now that I could see this was just like a ghastly prison. The electric torch projected a beam of light. Five or six persons came in with a man who was the leader, but I did not know him any of them. The leader looked around and asked what is the voltage of the ceiling lamp. I answered 220 volts, but at 3 meters high I said that I could not reach it.
I had at an earlier time told my brother who was now in Nanjing that I did not think that I would under any circumstances take my own life. I said that if ever I died in this situation, I probably was murdered, regardless what officials tell you.
After I had been locked up for 2 weeks, on March 28th I was escorted out of the basement and was taken to a stage in an open square to be criticized and denounced. The square was thronged with a dense crowd. An old colleague of mine, Mr. Zhou, stood at the corner of the stage. He had been married and divorced. He later married a young woman who was just eighteen years old. He often beat her and greatly mistreated her. She tried to escape many times, but he was always able to bring her back. At last she jumped out of a window and killed herself. Then Zhou slept with an official’s wife and as many women as he could. Because of his sexual behavior he had been cast in the cowshed as an obviously undesirable person.
We stood on different sides of the stage. After a violent barrage of criticism and denouncement, high officials who wore military uniforms took action against us. First, they bound Zhou’s hands behind him. Then with the rope harnessed around his neck, they drew it tighter. I could see how his face showed extreme distress. Then they bound me also. The rope was harnessed around my neck. They drew it tight. My God, this was such a surprise physical attack on me. The rope tightened.
Then they dragged Zhou from the stage into the square and into a truck. I was now laying on the stage alone. Three men grabbed me and carried me through the air like an airplane and threw me into the same truck. We were on our knees and if we lifted our heads they would punch us back down. The rope was so tight that I could not breathe and each time I was hit I saw stars and felt I would go unconscious.
The truck started driving and after about 15 minutes we got to the branch of the police station. I wondered how long we would have to stay in the truck. It felt like we could die of suffocation. I heard a policeman say to the Red Guards that they had been working hard that night. We were removed from the truck. The policeman lifted our faces and looked at us. We were moved to stand against the wall. The policeman asked someone to get a towel, a quilt and an enamel mug. I was told to sign my name to the credential for being arrested. I still had trouble with my breathing and sweat continued to pour from my forehead. The policeman asked why I continued to gasp and sweat, but I would think that he could figure out the reason. Later a man in the same prison said that the bruise from the rope remained on my neck for more than two months.